


Side Trip

by brionylarkin



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Rewrite, Fix-It, Fluff, Ghosts, Good Sibling Diego Hargreeves, Good Sibling Number Five | The Boy, Homophobic Language, I promise it's barely mentioned, I wish I could say no incest, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, M/M, Minor Allison Hargreeves/Luther Hargreeves, POV Alternating, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Protective Ben Hargreeves, Season/Series 02, Time Travel, Vietnam War, but we're trying to keep it as canon as possible
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25700491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brionylarkin/pseuds/brionylarkin
Summary: Time travel takes your feelings into account, and Klaus crash lands in the Vietnam War. Again.ORThey don't find Klaus in 1963. This is why.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Dave/Klaus Hargreeves, Raymond Chestnut/Allison Hargreeves, The Hargreeves Family
Comments: 442
Kudos: 1616
Collections: RaeLynn's Epic Rec List





	1. Five

**Author's Note:**

> Klaus's arc in s2 absolutely infuriates me, so we're gonna fix that. Maybe we'll even pick up Dave along the way.  
> (Don't let this first chapter fool you. This is a Klaus-centric story)

Blue static pulses overhead and around the Hargreeves siblings, all seven of them standing together for the first time in years--in spirit, if not in fact. Outside the concert hall, the distant roar of flames and destruction moves ever closer. There is a noticeable lack of screaming as the fire hits much too quickly.

In Luther’s arms, the bomb is unconscious. 

Five pushes himself to his limit gathering the power needed for a jump of this magnitude. He holds onto his siblings’ hands for dear life, unable to avoid thinking about how he’d never even time traveled with more than himself before, let alone six other people (five? Did Ben count?). 

Five reaches his capacity and moves to pull his family back, except—

He pauses, horror struck. It’s not enough. He must have used up too much energy in the fight earlier. He opens his eyes, desperate for even a hint of inspiration. Why isn’t he strong enough?

His eyes can’t help but land on Klaus, directly across the circle from him. His brother still looks pale and shaken, though much better than he seemed earlier in the day. His eyes are screwed shut and his newly acquired dog tags are moving in the winds being kicked up by the energy around them.

The dog tags, of course! Five is an idiot! He nearly forgot about Klaus’s mysterious time-traveling trip. There will be some leftover energy around him, but Five needs to work fast. 

He holds the static close overhead as he reaches for the little bit of power surrounding his brother.

He makes contact. Klaus’s eyes snap open in confusion, doubtlessly feeling the draw. The light crackles around them, growing impossibly brighter, moving impossibly faster.

And the Hargreeves siblings zap out of existence just as the fire reaches the theater. 

The years fly through Five’s mind in a kaleidoscope of colors and numbers. 2019, 2006, 2002, 1993. Further and further back in time. Five makes an effort to slow down once they pass 1989, the fear of running into their past selves finally abating, but he can’t get a grip on the energy. 

It sputters wildly around them. His siblings cry out as they spin faster and faster. Five catches glimpses of the timestream around them, a birth here, a death there. The roaring in his ears doesn’t quiet and, for a moment, he panics, thinking the Apocalypse is somehow following them back in time. 

But that’s ridiculous. Five manages to pull a bit of his energy back into himself once they hit the sixties. Something knocks into him and sends his siblings flying apart from each other. 

_No!_ Five forces them back together, closer than before. They orbit each other, blue static pulsing wildly, the rush in his ears getting louder and louder and _louder_.

Five loses control in 1963, falling out of his own portal and into a back alley. He stumbles to his feet, turning towards where his siblings should be. 

“Luther, Diego!” Five yells at the sky as his powers dissipate. Even without being able to see it, Five can tell that the energy is still moving without him...meaning his siblings are probably being scattered throughout the few years before this one. 

Unfortunately, Five has no time to process this information, as he registers gunshots coming from a street nearby. He turns around, confused, and steps carefully closer to the street.

A tank rolls by, followed by a man waving a tattered flag of the Soviet Union. The man is quickly gunned down. Someone shouts something in Russian. 

Five flinches back, forcing himself to keep walking further into the street even as he watches fighting planes flying overhead. He spots a newspaper and beelines for it.

“Soviets invade U.S?” he reads the headline in disbelief, automatically noting the date as November 25th, 1963. He stumbles over a pile of broken rubble and past a dying man. “No, this can’t be right.”

But it is. He pauses in front of the tank, ignoring the shouts of soldiers telling him to get down. “What the hell did we do now?”

The sudden firing of the tank sends Five flying to the side in an effort to avoid the blast. God, his ears are still ringing from before. He looks up, expecting to see the blast decimating the other side. 

Instead, his sister is rising above a pile of rubble, face and eyes glowing white. She reaches her hands out and the round harmlessly explodes in front of her.

“Vanya?” Five murmurs to himself, pushing up off the ground. 

Luther comes suddenly crashing down, yelling in victory and blocking a missile from hitting Vanya. She gives him a quick nod of acknowledgement, and both turn back to the fight. 

From his position crouched on the ground, Five can just barely spot the exploding heads of three men on the other side of the tank. Allison’s work, he assumes, based on previous experience with his sister’s power.

Across the street, Diego leaps off an overturned car. Somehow, he is able to deflect the bullets of the six men surrounding him, killing them all. He spots Five.

“Five, you sick son of a bitch!” he yells. “Where the hell have you been?” 

Five finally manages to get to his feet, brain sort of stuck on the length of Diego’s hair. He moves forwards to join the fight, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“Come with me if you want to live,” the man says.

“Hazel,” Five says, disorientated and fed up. “What the hell’s going on here?”

“There’s no time to explain,” Hazel says, pointing up at the sky. “Those are nukes, old-timer.” Five follows his finger to see the huge missiles trailing smoke through the sky. 

“What about my family?” he demands, panic quickly taking hold in his chest.

“You can’t save ‘em if you’re dead,” Hazel says logically and stretches out his hand. Five takes a deep breath and grabs hold, both men disappearing in a flash of blue light. 

They leave behind a timeline that is quickly destroyed, and four of Five’s siblings, who go out with it.


	2. Deja Vu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus's second arrival in Vietnam.

Klaus lands with a crackle of blue light and a yelp. There’s a rough tarp underneath him and he lets out a groan, back already throbbing from the force with which he hit the ground. 

“Uh, Klaus?” Ben says uncertainly from where he’s landed beside Klaus. “Where  _ are _ we..?” 

Klaus isn’t listening anymore, too focused on the beautiful man staring blearily at him from a nearby bed. Helicopters are loudly chopping in the background, and men in uniforms surround them. Klaus has the strongest case of deja vu he’s ever had.

“Dave?” Klaus murmurs, practically to himself, causing another crease to fill the space between the other man’s brows. 

He doesn’t have time to say anything else before an explosion rocks the tent and everyone inside. Dave jumps to his feet, Klaus’s eyes following him as he starts to pull a shirt on.

A familiar voice barks from outside. “Go time, ladies! Charlies on the wire!” 

Klaus can’t stop himself from flinching. Before he even realizes what he’s doing, he’s on his feet and dragging his eyes away from Dave to look for his uniform.

Across the tent, another man is yelling. “Move it! Alright, c’mon, go!” Most of the other men flood out of the tent, leaving behind only those who were undressed when the call came in.

The first voice, one that Klaus can now easily see is connected to the face of Sergeant Blackman, gets closer. “You got mud in your ears, boy? Get dressed!”

Klaus, still casting around for his nonexistent uniform, manages to get something out. “I-I don’t—”

“War’s not gonna wait for you to get pretty!” Blackman interrupts him. “Katz, get this man operational! And get him a real pair of pants.”

Klaus glances down at his leather pants, slightly offended even through his fog of confusion. But then Dave (Dave?  _ Dave! _ ) is shoving a uniform into his hands, and he’s automatically changing into it without complaint.

“Get him a gun!” Blackman is saying as someone roughly places a helmet on Klaus’s head.

Something explodes outside. Everyone is still shouting. Klaus isn’t sure what’s going on but he easily takes the gun Reynolds hands him and swings it comfortably over his shoulder. Yes, he thinks to himself, this is familiar. 

What isn’t familiar, not even after ten months, is the massive crowd of mutilated, shrieking ghosts that greet him when he exits the tent behind Dave. Klaus tries to keep his eyes on the back of Dave’s head, still bewildered and, somehow,  _ blindingly  _ happy, but Ben has no such restraint.

“Oh my god,” he whispers to himself. His voice hardens. “Klaus, where the hell are we?”

“We’re in the Vietnam War,” Klaus answers in a faint voice, still letting the crowd sweep him along. It’s dark, probably early morning, and he has to focus on not tripping over his own feet.

Dave turns, giving him a bemused smile that threatens to send Klaus to his knees. The sight is so familiar that he has to take several deep breaths to stop himself from crying. 

Dave looks almost concerned, but before he can say anything, they’re having to crouch at the edge of camp and set up their guns. 

In the nearby trees, there’s the glinting of metal. That’s where the other side will be. Klaus waits until the others begin firing to shoot any bullets himself, though he’s never been much of a shot. 

By now, it’s habitual to force himself into a head space where he aims, fires, aims, fires almost automatically. He hits maybe half his targets, which is a huge improvement on the zero that used to be his average. 

Klaus remembers this first battle as stretching on forever. He was scared and shaking and had no idea what was going on. Only the soldiers surrounding him and the threat of death from the other side kept him in place. 

This time, he’s surprised to find the fight coming to a close after only about forty five minutes, American soldiers having circled around behind the Vietnamese troops. The sun is only just starting to peek its way over the horizon.

Everyone pats each other on the back and begins to drag the surprisingly few injured men towards the medical tent. It doesn’t look like there are any fatalities.

Klaus is slow in getting up, still somewhat in shock. He finds his feet just as those who aren’t hurt start being directed onto a bus. Klaus plods after the others, slinging his gun onto his shoulder like he’s done a million times before. Except that he hasn’t yet, has he? 

Dave boards in front of Klaus and is quickly lost behind a crowd of other soldiers. Klaus ends up in the same seat as the last time around, the seat he used to think of as  _ his _ . 

Across the aisle is Mitch, who Klaus can vividly remember choking on his own blood as he died. In front of him is Connor and Jeff, both of whom will try to desert in the next few months. 

“Klaus, what is going on?” Ben hisses. He’s sitting in the window seat next to Klaus. If he could breathe, he would probably be hyperventilating. “What do you mean we’re in the Vietnam War? How did you know what to do in that fight? Is this…” he trails off, seemingly coming to a realization. “Is this where you went when you disappeared?”

“Yeah,” Klaus whispers back, making sure it’s not obvious he’s speaking. These men may have put up with his bullshit before, but that was when they knew him well. Being too obviously crazy out here will just get him sent home and he’s not going anywhere without Dave.

Ben goes to respond, but Klaus just shushes him, waiting for what he knows happens next. 

Sure enough, a hand lands on his shoulder. Klaus turns around to see Dave, having moved forward a few seats, sitting diagonal from him.

“You just get in country?” Dave asks, all friendliness and no ulterior motives. 

Klaus forces a smile and practically sighs. “Yeah…” He can’t take his eyes off of Dave.

Dave chuckles, turning his head slightly to glance out the window. “Yeah, shit’s crazy. I know.”

“Yeah!” Klaus says again, his smile turning real.  _ God, I love you _ .

“You’ll adjust,” Dave assures him, and both men just stare at each other for a moment. Klaus can’t remember if Dave was so drawn to him the first time around, but he can’t say he isn’t loving the attention now. Dave raises his hand. “I’m Dave.”

“Klaus.” They shake hands, Klaus using the motion as an excuse to move closer to the other man. 

The bus jolts over a rough patch of road and Klaus automatically moves his foot to check on the briefcase. It’s not there. A flash of panic goes through his chest until he remembers that he doesn’t have a briefcase this time. No time travel at all, just him and Dave.

“Klaus, as soon as we get a moment alone,” Ben says loudly. “You are explaining everything. No bullshit.” 

And Ben. Ben the friendly ghost is also here, which is a step up from the last time Klaus was dropped into an unfamiliar time period. 

“Say, “ Klaus says, turning back to Dave and fighting to sound normal. “What’s the date?”

Dave laughs. “Days all kinda blend together, huh? It’s April 19th. A Friday, if that helps.”

“It very much does,” Klaus responds with a smile, finally falling back into his normal behavior. “Thank you, Dave.” 

The first time this happened, Klaus was too focused on survival to worry much about the date. He honestly didn’t even know what year it was until a few months into his stay when he got his hands on a discarded newspaper. 

There’s no time to exchange any more words, as they’re arriving at another encampment. Klaus knows that they’d been planning to move this particular unit to another area to shore up defenses there. He also remembers this being the reason he was allowed to stay last time, because everyone assumed his records had been lost in the shuffle of transporting the group. He was lucky then. He’s still lucky now.

The others are all happy to be moving closer to Saigon, which will mean more things to do on leave. Klaus can’t disagree with the sentiment, remembering fondly what happened in the back room of a smoky bar the first time he went into the city. 

“Where are we?” Ben asks, standing to peer out the window. 

Klaus just flicks his hand irritably, preoccupied trying to catch glimpses of Dave out of the corner of his eye. 

The bus doors open, inviting in the screams of every ghost inhabiting the new camp. Klaus flinches, never growing used to it even by the end of his previous ten months.

Dave gets to his feet behind Klaus, along with most everyone else on the bus. Ben, having sat back down, just stares at the crowd of people they need to get through. 

“I’ll meet you outside,” he says and walks right through the side of the bus. 

“Show off,” Klaus mumbles out of habit. He sends a quick glance at Dave, hoping he didn’t hear that, but Dave isn’t looking so it’s probably fine. 

Klaus exits the bus in a crowd of people and they stream towards where he remembers their tents being. He sticks close to Dave, hoping to get the bed next to him like last time. 

He gets lucky. Klaus sits down on his bed, watching Dave unpack as much as they’re allowed to, and tries to remember how this conversation went the first time. 

To be fair, he was injured and very emotional at that point, so it probably wasn’t anything great. Before he can gather his thoughts, Klaus looks up to see Ben waving at him from the entrance. 

Klaus grimaces and gets to his feet, starting to walk away. Dave looks up and sends him a questioning look.

“Gotta piss,” Klaus says casually, gesturing outside. Dave just shrugs and goes back to what he was doing. 

On his way out, he passes Roger and Adam, both of whom are trying to rope people into a card game. Klaus waves off their request, but seeing their faces gets him thinking. By the time he went back to 2019, both of them had died. Separate incidents, but the same result. 

The image of Roger, blood streaming out of his fatal chest wound while he stands over his own dead body, bounces around in Klaus’s head. Can he prevent that this time around?

What about Adam, who’s grumpy at the best of times but always saves an extra bit of weed for Klaus? Or even Mitch, from earlier, who Klaus never really got to know before?

Dave is the priority, of course, Klaus affirms to himself. He turns a corner into an isolated part of camp, Ben following close behind him. There’s just a lot more to consider than he realized.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone has any thoughts about how things in s2 would play out without Klaus or Ben, feel free to comment! I think I mostly know where I'm going with this, but I love to hear others' thoughts. (Also- any predictions? For this story in particular or just s3?)


	3. A Different Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben gets his answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The parts in 1963 are going to be sticking fairly close to canon, so if something isn't mentioned, just assume it happened exactly as it did canonically.

Klaus stops walking behind a tent near the edge of camp. It’s at a weird angle compared to most of the other tents, so there’s a small area behind it that is practically invisible. 

There were a few times, when he and Dave were feeling particularly daring, that they stopped back here to exchange soft kisses. Klaus remembers one time when they were freshly a couple that…

He pinches himself and pulls his attention back to Ben, who is crossing his arms and giving Klaus a deadpan look. Klaus clenches and unclenches his hands, rocking back on his heels nervously. 

“Well,” he starts, holding his hands out to his sides. “What do you wanna know?” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Ben says, rolling his eyes. “How about you start from when you disappeared and we’ll go from there.”

Klaus groans. “I don’t need your sass! I’m going  _ through  _ something here.”

“You’re always going through something,” Ben says with zero sympathy. He gestures for Klaus to continue. 

Klaus sighs. “When I opened that briefcase, it took me here.”

“As in…” 

“As in Vietnam in 1968,” Klaus says, shoulders slumping. “I stayed here for ten months.”

“Why on earth would you do that?” Ben says, staring at his brother incredulously. “The others needed you back home!”

“No, they didn’t,” Klaus says wearily. “And don’t try to say otherwise. They didn’t even notice I was gone, Ben! At least here I was…” He trails off, grimacing and looking away.

“What?” Ben replies, softer this time. He tilts his head to the side, brows wrinkling in thought. 

Klaus scrubs a hand over his face. “At least here, I was needed. And-and  _ respected _ .” 

“The others respect you,” Ben argues back, though Klaus can tell that his heart’s not in it. “They’re your family. They love you.”

Klaus doesn’t bother responding, just staring down at his hands. He thinks idly about how his ‘Hello’ and ‘Goodbye’ tattoos need to be refreshed, not that that’ll be happening any time soon.

“Why’d you really stay, Klaus?” Ben asks quietly, growing emboldened when Klaus looks up at him. “It can’t just be because you felt needed. I  _ know _ you. You’d be perfectly happy if no one ever relied on you again.”

“Well maybe you don’t know me as well as you think!” Klaus snaps, feeling almost offended. He crosses his arms and sways back, unable to muster even a sarcastic heart gesture to soften the remark.

Ben blinks, looking taken aback. Klaus sighs, anger deflating as quickly as it appeared.

“I-” he says, running a hand through his hair. He peers up at Ben, who is surprised to see tears forming in his brother’s eyes. “I fell in love.” 

Ben’s mouth falls open a bit. “ _ Oh _ .” 

“Yeah.” Klaus sits down heavily, crossing his legs. “I mean, you’re right, you do know me. But apparently, I don’t?” He takes in a shaky breath, then coughs slightly to clear his throat. “Appar-Apparently, I fall in love really fast.” He laughs and wipes his nose. 

“Klaus,” Ben starts, sympathetic and gentle in a way Klaus really can’t handle right now. 

“Don’t!” he interrupts, voice thick. “He died last time, Ben. He died and I couldn’t do anything about it, but this time-this time I  _ can _ . I can stop him from dying! Don’t you get it? This is like a miracle or something.” Klaus swipes roughly at his eyes, frustrated.

“Klaus,” Ben says again, lowering himself to sit in front of him. “What about the others?”

“Others?”

“Our  _ siblings _ , Klaus!” Ben says, gesturing with his hands. “They’re out there somewhere.”

“That’s assuming they’re still alive,” Klaus says darkly.

Ben ignores him. “We can’t just abandon them.”

“How are we supposed to help them, Ben?” Klaus responds, annoyed. “Last time I was here, I had a briefcase. Right now, we have nothing! So, unless you’ve suddenly developed the ability to time travel, we’re kinda stuck here.”

“Well, we could be in the same time as them, just in different places,” Ben says earnestly. “They need us!”

“No, they don’t, buddy,” Klaus says, reaching out to mime patting Ben’s hand. “Our siblings need many things—therapy, for one—but not us. Especially not me. They’ll probably get more done without me there to distract them.”

“Klaus-”

“No,” Klaus says firmly. “I’m not leaving here without saving Dave.” He stares Ben down, an angry frown on his face.

Something in his eyes must convince Ben because he just sighs and nods his agreement.

“Just tell me one thing,” he says, rubbing his temples, eyes screwed shut in feigned pain. “Do I need to worry about running into a younger version of you?”

Klaus laughs lowly. “I don’t think so.”

Ben opens his eyes to peer at his brother in exasperation. “And you know this… how?”

“Well, I certainly don’t know anything about time travel,” Klaus says, a bit of his usual drama in his voice. 

“Except how to stumble into it,” Ben mutters. 

Klaus sends him a glare, but continues. “I landed exactly where I did last time. Like,  _ exactly.  _ Down to the second, I think. If I was going to run into my younger self, I would’ve done it by now.” 

Ben seems confused. “Well, maybe you, sort of, took over your younger body? Kind of like Five did. Is that possible?”

“Wouldn’t I have a briefcase then? Or my injuries from before?” Klaus says. He rests his elbow on his knee and leans his chin on his hand. “What about my tattoos?”

“Tattoos?” Ben asks, watching Klaus push his shirt sleeve up onto his shoulder to reveal the black ink there. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Klaus says. He pulls up his shirt to check his stomach, relieved to see the temple still there. “I got these here in Vietnam.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Ben says, frowning. “If you remember being here, how can the younger you not be here?”

“Maybe it’s like.” Klaus spreads his hands open. “Like different timelines? Like this is another version of what could’ve happened.”

“Like an alternate dimension?”

“Maybe?” Klaus says. “I’m not an expert on this. That’d be-”

“Five, yeah,” Ben interrupts. “But he’s also the one who got us into this in the first place.”

“Hey, at least we’re not dead in the Apocalypse,” Klaus says with a laugh. He sends a sly glance at Ben. “Or,  _ I’m  _ not dead anyway.”

Ben rolls his eyes fondly. “Bitch.”

“Asshole.” 

Ben reaches out and swipes a hand through Klaus’s torso, causing Klaus to flinch back, whining.

“Christ, Ben!”

Ben laughs and leans back to rest on his hands. After a moment of comfortable silence, he looks up at his brother, pensive. “Y’know, if you’re gonna save this guy-”

“Dave,” Klaus corrects him, though Ben ignores it.

“Then, you’re gonna need to be at the top of your game,” Ben continues, sending Klaus a meaningful look. 

“Yeah?” Klaus says, eyes flicking away and then back. “Okay, and?”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Meaning, you should be sober, Klaus!” 

“What? But I-” Klaus whines. 

“If you can get a handle on your powers, then you can use them to protect Dave and the other men in your unit,” Ben says too logically. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you looking at a few of them with sad puppy eyes. Some of them die, right?”

“A few, yeah,” Klaus mumbles.

“You manifesting me back at the theater was amazing,” Ben says gently. “Imagine if you could do that regularly? Or manifest other spirits to fight for you?”

Klaus is silent for a moment, thinking over what Ben is saying. He remembers the horde of screaming ghosts he waded through when he got off the bus earlier. He remembers how much worse it is on the front lines, how drugs were his only solace the last time around.

He thinks about Dave. 

“...okay,” he says quietly, sticking a thumbnail into his mouth and biting down on it. “I’ll try.”

“Really?” Ben says, face lighting up with wonder. And how is Klaus meant to disappoint him now?

“Yeah, really,” he responds with an eye roll. Ben fairly shrieks with glee and jumps towards Klaus.

They’re both surprised when he actually connects, Klaus’s hands lighting up with power. They stare at each other blankly for a moment, Ben’s hands on Klaus’s shoulders, before Klaus pulls his brother into a desperate hug. 

“Oh my god, you’re here,” he rambles into Ben’s neck. “You’re actually here.”

Ben just sinks into the hug, silent tears rolling down his face and disappearing before they can touch Klaus. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Benny.” Klaus pulls back to cup Ben’s face. “We’re gonna work on this, okay? I promise. For real this time.”

Ben nods tearfully just as Klaus’s hands fade through him, finally losing their blue glow.

~~~~~~~

Five really wishes he knew where his siblings are, but if he has to be asking a perfect stranger for help, at least the man has good taste in coffee. 

“Why is it always an anal probe?” the man is asking, moving far too close for Five to be comfortable.

Five just sends him a deadpan stare, followed up with a threatening smile. “Any closer, and I’ll melt your brain.”

The man quickly agrees, backing up so fast he almost trips over his own feet. “He needs a little space. Yes, I’ll be over here.”

“All those contraptions on the roof,” Five says, finally getting to business. “You built those, right?” He leans over to examine some machinery on a table. 

“Yes, yes, sure did,” the man says proudly. “I’ve been tracking anomalies in the atmosphere. Just waiting.” 

“Waiting for what?” Five asks in confusion, placing his stolen coffee cup down on the table.

“For you,” the man answers as if it’s obvious. He gestures to all of Five. “For all of you.”

Five narrows his eyes, and the man continues. “It all started in 1961. I was trying to sell the last of the Silvertone Omegas from the year before. I was in the middle of a sale when something...very strange happened.”

The man goes on to explain how he witnessed the mysterious appearance of someone in the alleyway next to his home. At least Five knows he’s in the right place now.

“So, for the past two years,” the man continues. “I’ve witnessed four energy surges in that alleyway out back.”

“Only four?” Five interrupts him suddenly. 

“Well, yeah,” the man says. “The same thing every time. A bright blue light, then something appears.” He gestures dramatically with his hands, but Five is still stuck on the number. 

He zeros in on the pictures on the wall. “You get a good look at any of them?” From the pictures, he can recognize what looks like Luther, Diego, and Vanya.

“Yeah, the first two,” the man replies. “A woman. She was the quietest. And then the big, sensitive one.”

Five turns to him. “Sensitive?”

“Yeah, cried a lot. Kept coming back to the alley, sat around for hours calling a woman’s name. Uh…” He trails off, clearly trying to think, then snaps his fingers. “Allison!”

“Luther,” Five whispers as his suspicions are confirmed. The man continues talking about his siblings returning to the alley, but Five is stuck on the one who didn’t show.

“So, my family is alive,” he says softly, staring at the pictures on the bulletin board. “Or, at least, most of them are.” He turns back to the man. “Could you have missed one?”

“What?” 

“An energy surge!” Five says, rapidly approaching the other man. “Could there have been five?” 

“I-I don’t know. Maybe,” the man stutters as Five backs him into a table. “Elliot! My name’s Elliot!”

“Whatever, alright!” Five shouts, cornering him. “I have ten days to find them and save the world.” He puts on a sarcastic smile. “Now, I need  _ your  _ help to do that.”

Elliot looks honored, pointing to himself in disbelief. “You need… my…” He interrupts himself to pull open a drawer. “You know what, I always thought that this, uh, mugshot looked like arrival number three.” 

He holds up a newspaper with Diego’s face on it. Five snatches it from him, murmuring his brother’s name in desperation and relief.

Elliot sighs as Five’s attention is brought elsewhere. “So then, that’s helpful?”

“You have no idea,” Five says, turning and jumping out of the building.


	4. On Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave and Klaus get some ~alone time~ (No, not like that).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick reminder that I'm not any kind of expert on the Vietnam war.

It’s been almost a week, and Klaus has made very little progress in his self-assigned ‘make Dave fall in love with me’ project. 

“ _ Our  _ project,” Ben likes to correct him when he knows Klaus can’t respond. But Ben has also spent this week doing nothing but making sarcastic comments and wandering off, so he really has no room to talk.

Last time around, Klaus remembers having a hard time getting  _ away _ from Dave near the beginning of his stay. Why is everything so different this time around? 

To be fair, Klaus probably seems like less of a walking disaster now that he has some military experience, so Dave doesn’t feel the need to take pity on him. Should Klaus fake something? He didn’t realize being less stupid could stop him from getting a boyfriend. He always thought it was the other way around. 

The ghosts are also difficult. Klaus is practicing with making Ben corporeal, but that has next to no effect on the crowd that follows him around. He’s mostly counting his blessings that it hasn’t gotten worse. 

Klaus sighs and reclines back on his cot, absolutely exhausted. 

“Long day?” Dave asks as he drops down on his own bunk to unlace his boots. 

“Eh, you could say that,” Klaus replies with a weird horizontal shrug. He turns to face Dave. “Blackman made me help fix that fucking latrine that blew over the other night.” 

Dave snorts. “That’s what you get for shipping out during the rainy season.”

Klaus laughs to himself, though it quickly turns into a groan. “Dave, the things I saw in that latrine.” He gestures wildly as he pushes himself into an upright position. “I can never look any of you in the face ever again.”

Dave throws his head back in laughter and, for a moment, Klaus allows himself to bask in the moment. 

Of course, the moment is shattered not thirty seconds later when Sergeant Blackman, the hard-ass himself, strides into the tent.

“Hargreeves, Katz!” he barks. 

Klaus just lets himself fall backwards onto his cot without responding, arm over his eyes like a fainting lady. 

Dave jumps to his feet. “Sir.”

“You’re on watch tonight,” Blackman continues, speaking mostly to Dave. “North of camp.” He sends a disdainful look at Klaus, folded over his cot. “Katz, keep this one’s head screwed on straight, would ya?”

“Yes, sir,” Dave answers respectfully. Blackman stomps out of the tent and Dave turns back to Klaus. “Better get moving, Hargreeves.”

Klaus groans again. “Just leave me here to  _ die _ .”

Dave snickers, leaning over to lace his boots back up. “Can’t do that. C’mon.” 

“Ugh,” Klaus says, levering himself upright and running a hand through his hair. He looks up at Dave. “Blackman’s gonna kill me, isn’t he?”

“I can’t promise he’s not considering it,” Dave says as optimistically as he can. “Thought you said you couldn’t look any of us in the face?”

“Aw, I didn’t mean it, Dave,” Klaus says, smiling and getting to his feet to pull his uniform jacket on. “Besides, you’d miss my pretty eyes too much.” He reaches up to jokingly pull his eyelids open. 

Dave laughs again, reaching over to push on Klaus’s shoulder. “Eh, I’ve always been more partial to blue eyes over green. I’ll be outside.” He grabs his gun and troops out, leaving Klaus to stare after him.

“You’re pushing it,” Ben remarks idly from behind him. 

“Shh-hh,” Klaus hisses, waving his hand at his brother aggressively. “He knows what color my eyes are. Just let me enjoy it.”

“The fuck are you talkin’ to, Hargreeves?” calls Reynolds from the other side of the tent. Klaus turns around to see the other man giving him a judgmental look.

“Klaus-” Ben starts to say, a hint of warning in his voice.

“Just your mom, Reynolds,” Klaus answers with a lazy grin. “Want me to tell her hi for you?”

Reynolds stares for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Fuck you, Hargreeves.”

Klaus jokingly shoots him a middle finger, picks up his gun, and walks out. Reynolds’ wheezy laughter follows behind him.

“Yeah, you’re going to be murdered here,” Ben says, shaking his head. “Idiot.” 

Klaus can’t respond, too busy falling into step beside Dave, who sends him just the sweetest little smile. Maybe Klaus is just a bit biased.

They stick with a comfortable silence as they head towards the northern part of camp, where it’s both less populated and more densely forested. The designated spot for soldiers on watch is on the edge of a small clearing a little ways away from the camp proper. 

It’s heading towards nightfall and the trees cast deep shadows upon the ground, so it’s really no surprise that Klaus starts tripping himself up every three feet.

Dave sends him an amused look as he almost falls for the third time. “You need me to carry you or something, Hargreeves?”

“Or something,” Klaus says, sending a frustrated glance at his feet. “It’s these fucking boots. They’re too big or something.” Just as he finishes speaking, his right foot catches on a tree root and sends him flying forward. Klaus cringes, expecting to hit the ground hard.

A strong arm wraps around his waist, shoulder leaning into his chest. “Woah, I got you!”

Klaus finds himself resting most of his body weight on Dave as the other man holds him up. He stares up at Dave for a moment, frozen, before he forces himself to pull away.

“Thanks,” he says faintly, adjusting the strap of his gun on his shoulder. 

“Anytime,” Dave answers quietly, giving Klaus a quick once-over. He clears his throat. “You should see if they have any smaller boots.”

“Yeah, probably,” Klaus says, avoiding his gaze. He can’t tell what’s making him so nervous. Thank god Ben stayed back at the camp because Klaus would never hear the end of this otherwise. 

They continue walking for another minute or two before they reach the correct position and can settle down. Klaus plops down on the ground to lean against a tree, while Dave sits cross-legged across from him. Both men lay their guns across their laps. 

There’s a moment of silence as Klaus bounces his knee and overthinks.

“You got any family, Hargreeves?” Dave asks finally. 

Klaus takes his thumbnail out of his mouth to look up at Dave. “Uh, yeah. I’ve got six siblings.”

“ _ Six _ ?” Dave says incredulously. “Damn, and I thought my three were a lot.”

“Ha, yeah,” Klaus laughs awkwardly. “There’s five boys and two girls. Seven of us altogether.”

“I feel for your parents,” Dave remarks jokingly. 

“You wouldn’t if you knew my father,” Klaus replies, almost bitterly, before he tunes fully into the conversation. “We’re all adopted, so we’re the same age.”

“Your house must’ve been crowded growing up.”

“Oh yeah,” Klaus says, rolling his eyes. “Probably yours too, though, huh?”

“Eh.” Dave waves his hand as if to say ‘so-so’. “I’m the oldest by twelve years, so I didn’t really have to deal with that.”

“How old are your siblings now?” Klaus asks despite already knowing the answer. 

“Well, there’s Anna,” Dave says with a fond smile. “She just turned fifteen last month.”

_ The hippie wannabe _ , Klaus finishes in his head.  _ Who practically lived on your lap when she was a toddler _ . Outwardly, he just nods for Dave to continue.

“Then Steven,” Dave says. “He’s thirteen.” 

_ Sarcastic, but really smart _ , Klaus thinks.  _ His birthday’s in the summer. I remember you sending a letter _ .

“Then Carol, the baby. She’s ten now,” Dave finishes.

_ The one you barely know because you left home when you were eighteen to go work for your uncle in Dallas _ . 

“I’ll bet you miss them,” Klaus says.

Dave lets out a sigh, looking down at his lap. “Yeah, of course but, y’know. I’m here. Nothing I can really do about it.”

“Yeah,” Klaus answers with a sympathetic smile.  _ You haven’t been back home since you left, but you still send money every month _ . “What about your parents? You close with them?”

Dave avoids his gaze. “Not so much anymore, but, y’know. That’s life, right?” He sends Klaus a tight smile. “What about your siblings?”

Klaus falls into a familiar rant about his siblings—six of them, mostly estranged, came back together recently because of their father’s death—though all he can think about is what Dave’s leaving out. 

_ Your mother was kind enough to not tell your uncle,  _ he remembers.  _ Not even your siblings know why she threw you out _ .

~~~~~~

Five can’t really blame Diego and Luther for being mad at him for stranding them in the 1960’s, but would it kill them both to care even a little about the Apocalypse? If Five didn’t already know that they’re idiots, this would certainly do it. 

His conversation with Diego yesterday was honestly a bit worrying. His brother’s preoccupation with JFK’s assassination is bordering on an obsession. (If Five is thinking about Reginald’s long-ago insistence that time travel can “contaminate the mind,” then that’s his own business.) 

Luther was just annoying. (Who willingly gets a job working for the mafia?) To think that he was the one most concerned about the last Apocalypse. Five figures he’ll hit Luther again when he’s not working. Hopefully, he’ll have a chance to get over the whole ‘being stranded in the 1960’s for a year’ thing by then. 

Honestly, it’s not like he’s even being discriminated against or anything. What does he have to complain about? 

Whatever. Five shakes off the thought, more focused on tracking down Diego now that he’s escaped the mental hospital. It’s kind of sad that his brother is this predictable. 

Five jumps into the backseat of Diego’s stolen car, finding himself in the middle of an argument.

“-okay?” Diego says dramatically. 

“Then why are you doing this?” asks the woman in the driver’s seat, which is a very good question that Five would also like the answer to.

Who is he kidding, he knows the answer. “Because he is an idiot,” Five interrupts them, causing the woman to jump and whirl around.

“Who the hell are you?” she demands, looking between him and Diego.

Five sends her a fake smile. “Hi. I’m his loving brother.”

“Who left me to rot in the nuthouse,” Diego corrects him, not even having the decency to act surprised to see Five.

“To protect you from yourself,” Five says, almost sincerely.

“That’s quite sweet,” the woman says, though Five ignores her.

Diego, on the other hand, seems to have enough. “Okay, both of you, out.”

Five leans forward. “Lose the crazy lady, and come with me. We have important business.” 

Diego leans away with a frustrated sigh, while the woman gives Five a look he can’t decipher.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Diego says firmly. 

Five’s jaw tenses and he considers his options. There’s a police officer walking past the car on their right. The threat of being arrested would probably be enough to convince Diego to follow him but… he has a better idea.

“Listen, Diego,” he says, watching his brother unconsciously turn to face him. “I’ve made contact with a man who’s been tracking our arrivals here in the 60’s.”

“What?” Diego says, face twisted in sudden confusion. “Is this something I need to worry about?” 

“That’s not the  _ point _ ,” Five stresses, suddenly incredibly frustrated. “Not counting me, he’s only seen  _ four  _ energy surges. So either he missed one, or…”

“Or someone didn’t make it back,” Diego finishes the thought, eyebrows drawing together in concern. “Do you know who?”

“Klaus,” Five replies, watching Diego’s face twist with horror. 

“What?” he says, eyes darting between Five and the woman who still hasn’t introduced herself. “But this guy probably just missed one, right? I mean, what are the odds that we all make it but one?”

“I don’t know,” Five admits with a sigh. “Come with me, and we’ll figure it out.”

Diego searches Five’s face for signs of deceit. “If you’re lying to me, I swear…” He trails off, shaking his head. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

“What about me?” the woman asks. Five and Diego turn towards her, and she stares back, expectant.

Diego huffs an almost laugh. “And I’m bringing the crazy lady.”

Five has really lost all control of his family members.


	5. What's to Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A card game and a movie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote the beginning of this chapter three times and I'm still not a huge fan of it, but this chapter is mostly transitional, so I'm just gonna post it.

“If you ask me if I’m okay  _ one more time _ ,” Mitch trails off to let the threat sink in. “I swear to god, Hargreeves.” He shakes his head and strides further into the tent, followed closely by the rest of their unit.

Everyone’s exhausted and dragging their feet. Several men drop onto their beds and are pretty much immediately out for the count.

“Sorry, sorry,” Klaus says with a sheepish smile. He’s been twitchy all afternoon, and he’s pretty sure everyone’s noticed. “Excuse me for feeling a little responsible.”

Mitch sends him a hard glare as he gingerly lowers himself onto his cot. “If you hadn’t pushed me, that bullet would’ve hit my neck, not my shoulder, idiot. Don’t feel responsible for saving my life.” His shoulder is wrapped tightly in gauze, but he insists that he’s well enough to leave the medical tent.

Klaus checks the safety on his gun twice before dropping it lightly onto his bed. “You admitting that I saved your life, Mitch? I think that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!” He puts his hands over his heart and lets himself fall back onto his bed, pretending to swoon. 

Mitch chuckles lowly, shaking his head. He pulls a scuffed deck of cards out of his bag and shakes it. “Anyone wanna play?”

A few tired voices chime an agreement, so someone drags a rough-looking table into the center of the tent and they start setting up the game.

“Hargreeves?” Mitch calls, and Klaus looks up. “You joinin’? Maybe I’ll go easy on you.”

Klaus laughs and hauls himself to his feet. “Well, how can I refuse a personal invitation?”

“You’re just the only other person in here who’s not asleep,” Mitch responds with a smirk.

“Ouch. And here, I thought I saved your life!” Klaus protests, pulling up a chair and being dealt in. “Doesn’t that mean you have to be nice to me or something?” The others just laugh, jostling him playfully. Klaus grins and settles in to play the game. 

It all goes smoothly for about twenty minutes, them quietly ribbing each other about their cards, or their performance earlier, or the most recent letter they got from home. Klaus can’t help but relax a bit in the familiar environment, no matter how on edge he’s been since he saved Mitch.

“Say, Hargreeves,” Roger says, very carefully not looking up from his cards. “How  _ did  _ you know to push Mitch out of the way?”

Klaus can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes even as he tenses, the comfortable atmosphere evaporating within seconds. Roger has been on his ass since day one, both times around, completely convinced Klaus is some kind of spy for the Vietcong. 

It would probably be more intimidating if Roger wasn’t also nineteen and an idiot. 

At least the others agree with Klaus. “What is this, another conspiracy theory?” Jeff asks from across the table. “Roger, for god’s sake.”

“What?” Roger defends himself. “A man appears from nowhere and I can’t be suspicious? How’d he know the ambush was coming anyway?”

Klaus can see the conversation getting away from him, so he quickly inserts himself back into it.

“No, Jeff, he’s right,” Klaus says quietly, turning his eyes to the table in faux seriousness. “I do have a secret.”

Roger gestures at him in vindication, falling back in his chair as he waits for Klaus to confess.

“I…” Klaus trails off, looking up at Roger with a smug smirk. “I can see the future, Roger.”

Roger groans loudly and throws his cards down on the table, while everyone else erupts in uproarious laughter. 

“He really had you for a second there!” Connor howls, smacking a now sulking Roger on the back. Roger jerks forward under the onslaught, but refuses to wipe the angry frown off his face.

Klaus quickly leans across the table to snatch up Roger’s hand, pulling the other man forward with a screech of his chair. Roger lets out a “hey!” that goes ignored.

Klaus traces the lines on his palm and puts on a high creaky voice. “In your future, I see…” He pauses, finally allowing Roger to yank his hand back. “You losing this card game.” 

Klaus gathers up Roger’s scattered cards and puts them back in the deck. Roger huffs in annoyance. He pushes his chair back from the table so hard it falls over, and storms off. 

Mitch laughs, wincing only slightly at the jostling of his shoulder. “Aw, don’t torture the poor kid. Roger!”

“C’mon, Roger, come back!” Klaus calls after him, unable to fully wipe the grin off his face. “I’m only messing with you.”

Roger ignores them, stomping out into the night. As he exits the tent, he bumps shoulders with Dave, who shoots a bemused look after him.

“What’s up with Roger?” he asks, striding inside and picking up the kid’s abandoned chair. He rights it and plops himself down. 

Klaus finds himself scanning Dave up and down, searching for injuries. He’s eternally worried that saving someone else’s life will lead to Dave dying or being injured early. Luckily, it hasn’t happened yet. 

He finds that the only noticeable change in Dave is a scrape high on his cheek, from being pushed into a tree earlier today.

Well, that and his shoulders practically bursting out of his shirt. God, Klaus is gay. 

By the time Klaus’s eyes make their way back up to meet Dave’s, Dave is smiling softly at him, a look in his eye like they’re in on the same joke. They maintain that eye contact for a moment, until Jeff punches Dave’s shoulder to get his attention.

Klaus ducks his head, running a hand through his hair as Dave turns away. He picks his cards back up, solely for something to do with his hands.

“Wow,” Ben says sarcastically, having just appeared at the entrance. He perches himself on a bed behind Dave. “This is really pathetic.”

Klaus tries to pay attention to the conversation around the table, which is slightly difficult when his guardian ghost is shouting at him from across the room. 

“...see the future,” Connor is saying with a stupid smile on his face. 

“Damn, Klaus,” Dave says, turning from Connor back to Klaus, who tries really hard to stop himself from visibly melting at the use of his first name. “You didn’t tell me you were a prophet.”

Jeff snorts. “Oh yeah, our very own prophet. Y’know, I think there’s some of those in California. They’re called hippies.”

“I could be a hippie if I wanted to be,” Klaus interjects to more laughter. “No, really! I’d be the head hippie! The cult leader!” 

“And, on that note,” Mitch snorts and gets to his feet, using Klaus’s shoulder for support. “Have fun with your cult, prophet. I’m goin’ to sleep.”

“My cult would be too much for you to handle,” Klaus retorts, waving him off. Connor and Jeff follow him to their own beds, both clapping Klaus on the shoulder as they go.

“Night, prophet.”

“G’night, Hargreeves, Katz.”

Dave and Klaus shoot them their own goodnights, watching them bed down near the other end of the tent. Mitch doesn’t even take off his shoes, simply falling into bed fully dressed.

“Just you and me then,” Dave says, stretching his arms across the table to start gathering up all the cards. 

Klaus joins him, sliding the cards into a pile on his side of the table. Once they’re together, he hands them to Dave, who adds them to his own stack. 

“I-” Klaus is interrupted by Reynolds, who slept through the whole argument earlier, rolling over and letting out a huge snore. 

Klaus muffles his loud laughter in his palm. Dave just grins, both very used to Reynolds’ explosive snoring. Klaus can practically feel his eyes shining with happiness as he and Dave exchange an amused look. 

After a moment, Dave’s face turns considering and he’s gesturing for Klaus to follow him outside. Klaus nods, suddenly bemused. They definitely didn’t do this the first time around. 

Dave leads him out of the tent and around the corner. They zigzag around several tents, sending a friendly greeting to most everyone they see. The stars are very bright, Klaus can’t help but notice, looking up even as he continues to follow Dave blindly.

Ironically enough, they stop in the same quiet spot Klaus led Ben to only a month ago. Dave settles down cross-legged, and Klaus is joining him before he even asks. 

“I found this spot last week,” Dave says almost conspiratorially. “The tent’s at a weird angle, so no one can see it from inside camp. It’s the closest thing to privacy we’ve got here.” 

He has such a proud smile on his face that Klaus can’t bear to burst his bubble. “Very nice,” he says faintly.

“I come here when I need to clear my head, or I can’t sleep,” Dave continues, picking at a thread on his pants. 

“Do you have insomnia a lot?” Klaus asks. The moonlight is reflecting off Dave’s eyes.

“A bit more often recently,” Dave says, which is a surprise considering Klaus has always been jealous of his ability to sleep like the dead (Ha). 

“Oh? Pray tell.” Klaus’s words come out only slightly strangled. Dave sends him an unreadable look. 

“Just… strange dreams,” he says finally, as if he’s only just settled on the answer.

“Nightmares?” Klaus asks, leaning his head on his elbow. “I have some experience with those.”

“No!” Dave denies firmly, staring up at him from under his fringe. “It’s nothing, really. I barely remember them.”

“Oh, okay,” Klaus says, dropping the subject. Despite what other people may say, he does know when to stop pushing. He scuffs his feet on the ground instead, nudging Dave’s knee. 

“Why’d you bring me out here?” he asks quietly when Dave glances up at him.

Dave looks him in the eye, a tiny smile suddenly playing on his face. “To get away from Reynolds’ snoring, duh.” There’s that look in his eye again, like he knows something Klaus doesn’t. 

Usually, Klaus can’t stand that kind of look. The kind of people who use it on him are generally not the type he wants to be around. 

To be fair, though, being in on the joke is infinitely better than being left out. And Klaus has a feeling he knows exactly what Dave’s thinking about.

~~~~~~~

They are holding a man hostage and watching a tape that hasn’t actually been filmed yet. One of his brothers is potentially missing, his other brother is stuck in a teenager’s body, and they’re all stuck in 1963. 

Somehow, the strangest thing that’s happening in the room right now is still Lila painting Elliot’s toenails a sparkly green. She’s separated his toes with cotton. It’s a serious production. 

Diego glances over at Five. “Why are we watching this?”

“Shush,” Five says without looking over. Diego rolls his eyes. Why did he expect anything else?

The video, starring a bickering elderly couple, finally starts getting interesting when the man says the date.

“Well, that’s six days from now,” Lila says, attention drawn away from Elliot’s feet.

Diego realizes something. “Holy shit, this is it.” Even Elliot takes a break from struggling to watch the screen. 

“The grassy knoll.” Diego leans forward. “Kennedy’s about to get shot.” Suddenly curious, he turns to Five. “How do you have this?”

“Hazel died to get me this footage,” Five responds, looking oddly morose for the death of someone who tortured his brother and tried to kill the rest of his family. “It must be the key to stopping doomsday.”

“Hazel?” Diego says. Is he thinking of the wrong person?

“Long story.”

“What’s doomsday?” Lila asks.

“Longer story.” God, Diego forgot how much talking to Five is like pulling teeth.

“What exactly did he say to you?” he asks anyway, knowing full well he won’t get a straight answer.

“Well, he was killed before he could explain,” Five says, surprisingly open. “But whatever he wanted us to see, it’s on this film.”

The video erupts into screaming right in front of their eyes, and Diego finds himself leaning forward in fascination. “Oswald.”

“Oh, no,” Five murmurs to himself and starts to rewind the video. It clicks to a stop after only a moment, and suddenly Diego can see what Five saw. His eyes widen in disbelief.

Five pulls the projector back to make the image bigger, but it’s almost not needed. It’s already too visible. 

Five mumbles something to himself, but Diego’s not listening. Because, of fucking course, their father is on the video, standing on the grassy knoll. 

He wishes Lila’s nail painting was still the weirdest thing happening in this room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm laying some groundwork for future plot points here. Let me know if you spot them!


	6. Almost There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some yearning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Ben for all the Ben fans out there.

The 173rd was in Vietnam for two months before Klaus dropped in, so another two months in and it’s time for them to go on leave. They have five days of R&R in Saigon and everyone is planning to make the most of it. 

Last time around, Klaus remembers getting a few dirty looks when he followed everyone else into the city. Whether it was because he was constantly high and therefore useless, or because he was only there two months, he was never quite sure. What he does know is that this time is different. 

When the break is first announced, Reynolds claps Klaus on the shoulder and lightly shakes him, the closest the other man can get to being visibly excited in front of his superiors. 

Connor, who’s made it almost a month past when he deserted last time, waits until Sergeant Blackman leaves to cheer and throw his arms around Klaus’s and Jeff’s necks. “Oh, this is gonna be great!”

Even the eternally suspicious Roger seems to put his issues aside to let everyone be excited, not bothering to hide his amusement at Connor’s antics. 

“Have you ever been to Saigon before?” Dave asks Klaus, both of them crouched beside their cots, shoving some clothes in a bag.

Ben is perched like a bird on the bed behind Dave and doing his absolute best to disrupt the conversation.

Klaus hesitates for a moment, ducking his head lower over his bag. “Once,” he settles on. “But I didn’t get to see much of the city.” There, that’s only half a lie.

“Just passing through?” Dave says in sympathy. He reaches out to nudge Klaus’s shoulder. “Always disappointing, huh?”

“Yeah,” Klaus replies, laughing almost nervously. He hates lying to Dave. “Have you been there then?”

“Eh, just the once,” Dave answers. He zips up his bag but remains on the ground, leaning up against his bed with his legs stretched out towards Klaus. “We went there on leave during my last tour.”

“Did you like it?” Klaus asks, looking up from his half-packed bag. 

“Well, yeah,” Dave says. “It’s a pretty groovy city, but…” He trails off for a moment.

“Groovy,” Ben mouths gleefully. Klaus resists the urge to throw something at him. Dave’s slang is cute, okay! Klaus will stand behind it.

“Some of the locals were scared of us,” Dave continues, looking down at his hands. Klaus’s attention is pulled back to him immediately. “I mean I guess I don’t blame them, but when kids run away from you…”

“It’s a lot,” Klaus says gently. He sends a quick glance around the room to ensure no one’s looking, then reaches out to touch Dave’s clasped hands. 

He almost immediately regrets it, especially when Dave looks up at him, startled. Klaus starts to pull away as Dave cranes his neck to make sure no one’s watching, but before he can really move, Dave is turning his hand over to hold Klaus’s.

It’s a gentle hold that would allow Klaus to pull away if he decided to. He absolutely will not decide to. This is the closest he’s come to being with Dave since the other man died the first time around, and Klaus doesn’t want it to end. 

“But there are a couple bars I know,” Dave continues like he isn’t blushing beet red. “I don’t know if you really drink because I’ve never seen you do it, but the atmosphere is really the fun part. I think you’d enjoy it.”

“I shouldn’t,” Klaus says with a small smile, interrupting Dave’s rambling. “I used to drink way too much. I used to do a lot of things too much, actually, but I mean, I’ve been trying to stop.”

“More like forced,” Ben mutters jokingly and rolls his eyes. Klaus ignores him.

“Oh, hey, that’s great, Klaus!” Dave says, clutching Klaus’s hand tighter in excitement. “I’m so proud of you.” His smile is achingly sincere.

“Thanks,” Klaus says faintly. He nearly forgot how amazing it feels to have Dave’s full enthusiasm focused on him. 

They smile at each other for a moment. Klaus can’t stop his eyes from drifting down to Dave’s lips, despite knowing full well that they can’t kiss here. 

“Go time, assholes!” Blackman suddenly shouts from the entrance to the tent. “You want a break or not?”

Dave and Klaus practically spring apart, Klaus quickly turning to shove the last few articles of clothing into his bag. Dave just jumps to his feet, swinging his bag up onto his shoulder.

“I’ll save you a seat,” he says before striding out to join the crowd. 

Klaus watches him go, hand pausing where he’s zipping up his bag. His gaze drops as he slowly pushes himself to his feet, pulling his bag up with him. He pauses, scanning his sleeping area for any loose belongings.

“You comin’, prophet boy?” Mitch calls, raising his eyebrows as he passes the still frozen Klaus.

“Uh, yeah,” Klaus says hurriedly, falling into step behind Mitch. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

“I mean, if you wanna stay here,” Mitch says. “That’s definitely on you.”

Klaus laughs and rolls his eyes as they exit the tent, following the small stream of soldiers boarding the bus. It’s quick moving, what with everyone excited to leave the camp and have some fun in the city. 

Klaus finds that Dave did save him a seat about halfway back, though Mitch is forced to sit in the front.

“Hey,” Dave greets him with a quick smile, moving further into the seat so Klaus can sit down. 

“Hey yourself,” Klaus responds. He sits a little closer to Dave than is strictly necessary, but neither man complains about it. 

“Hey, guys,” Connor says, tapping Klaus on the shoulder from across the aisle. Klaus and Dave both turn to look. “Settle a debate. Does Jeff look like Rock Hudson?”

Klaus snickers, gesturing for Connor to lean back so he can see Jeff. 

Jeff glares at Connor. “I look like him! I’ve had many people tell me that I look like him.”

“Yeah, like who?” Reynolds calls from the seat behind Klaus and Dave. “Your mother?” Everyone within hearing range bursts into laughter. Jeff tries in vain to keep a straight face. 

“Damn you all,” he finally says, cracking a smile. 

Connor pats him on the back. “Better luck next time, man.” Jeff rolls his eyes in absolute exasperation. 

“Hey,” Reynolds pipes up again. “I got a letter from my little sister last month talking about Rock Hudson. You got something to say to me?”

Jeff barks a laugh. “I don’t know. Your sister prettier than you?” 

“Why, you-” Reynolds jokingly lunges for Jeff, who dodges, already laughing. 

“Alright, break it up,” Klaus says, laughing as he catches Reynolds and pushes him back into his seat. “You’re both pretty, ladies.”

Both men punch Klaus in the arm at the same time.

“Ow!” 

~~~~~~~

When they first appeared in Vietnam, Ben was more than scared for Klaus. His brother has never been what anyone would call a fighter, not even when they were what amounts to child soldiers. The last time Ben saw Klaus get into an actual fight, it ended with Klaus dead on the floor of a rave. 

To be fair, he got up pretty soon after, but he still  _ died _ . The point is that it’s nearly impossible to see Klaus as a violent person, but here he is, fighting in one of bloodiest wars Ben can think of. And yet, somehow, Ben has also never seen his brother happier. 

Klaus really wasn’t lying when he said he felt needed and respected here, even if that wasn’t his main reason for staying the first time. These men rely on each other to an almost absurd degree, and Klaus is no exception. 

Ben estimates that Klaus is the oldest person in his unit, not counting their superiors, and that age gap really seems to make a difference. 

While Ben has very little time to actually talk to Klaus, he can tell that the younger members of the unit look up to him. Klaus mentioned that Connor and Jeff both tried to desert last time, but they’re still here. Mitch is supposed to be dead by now. At least some of that can be attributed to Klaus’s influence.

Ben also has to admit, if only to himself, that he didn’t totally believe Klaus about his relationship with Dave, at least not at first. Oh, he was sure Klaus liked him, maybe even loved him, but Klaus had never had a real relationship before. Ben wasn’t sure he knew  _ how  _ to love someone like that. 

But he’s never been afraid to admit when he’s wrong, and watching Klaus and Dave interact has proven him wrong in about a thousand different ways.

Even now, watching the two quietly converse from the front of the bus, Ben can’t help smiling to himself. 

Klaus gestures wildly with one of his hands, in the middle of telling a story, and Dave laughs. With Klaus, not at him. Ben can’t remember the last time a “boyfriend” did that.

Klaus catches Ben’s eye as he finishes talking, and Ben takes the opportunity to send his brother an exaggerated thumbs up and a grin.

Klaus smiles happily and turns back to Dave, eyes lighting up as the other man leans in closer to say something. They’re not even together yet and it’s already obvious how much they gravitate towards each other. 

As happy as it makes Ben to see Klaus in love, it also saddens him a little. He’s been letting himself drift off more and more, settling in the back of Klaus’s mind to avoid interrupting his time with Dave.

Klaus calls it “wandering off,” so Ben is pretty sure he has no idea what’s really going on. 

And, that’s not to say that Ben is moving on! He’s been with Klaus for the better part of fourteen years, so it’s safe to say that he’s in this for the long haul. It’s just… becoming easier to not be totally present in every single moment of the day. 

“That makes sense, right?” Ben turns to ask the soldier next to him. He doesn’t answer, of course, being both alive and asleep, but Ben takes his snoring as agreement. “Yeah, exactly.”


	7. Luther & Allison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Klaus's absence is affecting two of his siblings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone was REALLY anxious about last chapter. Are y'all okay? S2 really traumatized us all, huh? Anyway, there's no Ben in this chapter because I also would like to traumatize you :)   
> Enjoy!

Luther can’t say he isn’t happy to see Five. Sure, he’s  _ pissed  _ at him in a way he’s never been pissed at anyone before, but it’s definitely a relief to see him alive. Hell, it would be a relief to see any of his siblings alive at this point. 

Other than his ill-advised trip to find their father, Luther has stayed in Dallas for a reason. And it certainly isn’t for the weather.

But, regardless of his feelings on Five (and Vanya, because it sure was a shock to see her), his appearance has Luther thinking. Are the others here in Dallas too? Has Luther somehow been avoiding them for the whole year he’s been here?

He’s thinking about it as he sets off on his morning run. The air is still misty, the streets are empty, and it’s as good a time as any to sort out his thoughts. He’s vaguely amused by the kids running behind him, as he always is. It isn’t until he’s nearing the end of his circuit that he’s blindsided. 

It’s not Allison walking along the sidewalk. The look-alike gives Luther a confused, slightly judgmental look as he picks himself up, cheeks burning in embarrassment. One of the kids shoots an insult at him, but Luther’s too distracted to pay it much mind.

He asks Mr. Ruby to find Allison. He won’t lie to himself; she’s the person he’s missed most over the last year. Seeing Klaus or Diego wouldn’t have made him fall over his feet like that.

(“What is she, your ex?” Mr. Ruby asks upon seeing her last name.

Luther hesitates, the whole story flying through his head at once, landing on the tip of his tongue. He opens his mouth to spill it, but…

“S-Sorta,” he answers instead, facing Mr. Ruby’s narrowed eyes. “Y-Yeah. Sure.” He’s not stupid enough to think it would make sense to anyone outside his family anyway.)

Mr. Ruby gets back to him with the information pretty quickly, even finding time to make fun of Luther’s choice in women. Luther can’t find it in himself to care. 

‘75 Ellis St.’ is what the matchbook says, cradled in Luther’s hands like a precious gem. It’s the closest he’s come to Allison since he got here. It’s almost unbelievable. 

Except that it’s not. Luther abandons his dinner pretty much immediately, setting down his silverware with a clatter. He’s turned and rushed out of the empty club before he even realizes what’s happened.

It’s only as he’s starting his car that he stops to think for a moment. What is he going to do? What do you say to your adopted sister who you’re in love with after the two of you are separated for over a year? Should he bring her something?

Chocolates, he decides on finally. That’s a pretty classic choice for a romantic gift, right? At the very least, it’ll make his intentions clear. 

Luther rushes through a stop at the corner store, then speeds to the address he’s been given. It’s not until he’s pulling up outside the house that he really registers the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. God, he’s nervous.

He takes a deep breath, grabs the chocolates from the front seat, and gets out of the car before he can chicken out. His feet find the curb and he pauses, staring up at the house.

The building itself is a small brick building, similar to all the others on the street. The yard is trimmed short with no real flowers and minimal plants. It’s rather boring, overall, which Luther has a hard time reconciling with his image of Allison, who has never been boring a day in her life. 

And then he spots the white, floral-patterned curtains in the window. They’re a bit lopsided, obviously homemade, and all Luther can think about is Allison struggling through Grace’s sewing lessons when they were kids. 

She was so frustrated she eventually rumored Diego into finishing her project for her, while she and Luther snuck off to the attic to play make-believe. She was always an actress. 

Luther smiles at the memory even as butterflies eat their way through his stomach. He takes another slow breath in, then lets it out. He’s ready. 

There’s no doorbell, so Luther gently knocks on the door, waiting with bated breath.

Nothing happens. 

He frowns, knocking again, a bit louder this time. Maybe she’s upstairs, he rationalizes to himself. Or in the shower?

Another few minutes go by in which Luther accepts that no one is home. He takes a step back from the door to scan the street up and down. There’s no car anywhere near Allison’s house, so either she doesn’t have one, or she’s out.

Luther checks his watch.  _ 4:46 PM.  _ Most people will be getting off work soon. If he just waits, Allison will probably show up eventually. 

He crouches down awkwardly to fit himself on the steps leading up to the front door. He sets the box of chocolates down next to him, and settles in to wait. 

~~~~~~~

Allison misses her family. It’s been two years since she was dropped into an alleyway in Dallas, and she’s never quite given up on finding them, no matter what the logical part of herself claims. 

What she wouldn’t give to hug Luther, or tease Diego, or  _ finally _ make it up to Vanya. Five can be as bratty as he wants, and Klaus can steal all her clothes, Allison doesn’t care. She just wants her family back. 

But Allison knows more than most that you can’t always get what you want. Her new life, the one she built with her brain and her own two hands, is a testament to that. No rumors required. She thinks it’s one Claire would be ( _ will be _ ) proud of. 

This sit-in is the culmination of months of planning, recruitment, and frustration. Allison has argued with the police countless times and fought with herself over using her powers doubly so. She’s ready.  _ They’re  _ ready. 

And she’s tired of other people telling her what to do. 

“Why don’t we vote on it?” 

The whole room turns to face her, Odessa startled, Miles almost offended, everyone else just confused. 

“We’re not voting on it,” Miles says, dismissing her. If his goal is to piss Allison off, he’s certainly achieving it. She clenches her jaw, working up a rant. 

“And why the hell not?” Odessa speaks up before Allison can, tilting her head in exasperation. 

“Because that’s not how this works.” Miles gestures with his hands to emphasize his point, flustered. 

That’s the wrong thing to say.

Odessa scoffs. “You trying to tell me how this works? In my own damn beauty parlor?” She blinks in exaggerated surprise. “What, you about to start coifin’ hair, too?”

Miles stares for a moment, apparently realizing he’s lost. “No, ma’am.”

“I didn’t think so.” Odessa nods to Allison, having cleared the floor for her. 

Not one to waste an opportunity, Allison jumps to her feet and crosses the room. “Look, we’ve been organizing this sit-in for months. When Kennedy gets here, so do the cameras.” She feels a fierce sense of pride fill her chest. Let them see, she thinks. “ _ Now  _ is the time to show the world what it is  _ really like  _ for us down here.”

The group murmurs in agreement, shifting in their seats. She’s reaching them.

“And to show the police that we will not be  _ bullied  _ into submission,” she spits out the words, feeling the rightness of them on her tongue. She’s always been good at picking the perfect combination of words. 

All around her, people are nodding. They trust her, Allison realizes. Not just as Ray’s wife, as her own person. 

“We will continue to fight for equality, even in the face of persecution,” she continues. “With or without Ray.” She sends a pointed look at Miles. “Because we’re ready.” Allison takes a deep breath in. “All in favor?”

It’s a majority. 

~~~~~~

Luther has eaten most of Allison’s chocolates. In his defense, he skipped dinner. He’s also nervous. His nerves are probably taking precedence over his hunger, if he’s being perfectly honest.

He looks down at his watch.  _ 6:37 PM.  _ It’s been almost two hours since he sat down to wait and Allison still isn’t home. 

His fight tonight isn’t until eight, but Mr. Ruby likes him to make an appearance at the club beforehand, so he’s already cutting it fairly close.

Luther sighs, rising to his feet. He looks down at the box still in his hand, surprised to find one chocolate remaining. White chocolate. He’s subconsciously eaten around Allison’s favorite candy. 

He puts the lid back on the box with a smile. Maybe she’ll get the message, maybe she won’t. Either way, Luther will be back tomorrow to see her for certain. 

He sets the box down next to her front door, where it won’t be missed.  _ One  _ piece of her favorite candy. She’ll get it. 

Luther heads back to his car in a hopeful mood. He’ll get to see Allison tomorrow. 

He starts to whistle as he starts his car, pulling smoothly away from the curb. He even sends a friendly wave to an older woman walking down the sidewalk in front of Allison’s house. She just stares at him suspiciously, but Luther ignores it. He’s in too good a mood.

~~~~~~

It’s decided that Allison will enter first. She’s a woman, so people will be less likely to attack her, but she’s also capable of defending herself if necessary. 

As she enters the restaurant and heads towards the counter, hearing the shocked gasps from the patrons surrounding her, Allison has to restrain herself from balling her hands into fists. Honor and dignity, she reminds herself. If you attack them, you’re proving them right. 

Allison sits down at the counter, clasping her hands. The white man behind the counter strides up to her. His face is stony, but she can see anger behind his eyes.

He gestures to the door. “Out,” he says. “Else I’m calling the police.” 

Allison clenches her jaw, forcing her voice to stay light. “I’d like to be served, please.”

A woman who doesn’t even work there marches up to the counter and points at the ‘Whites Only’ sign. “Can’t you read, girl?”

“Seven languages,” Allison can’t help responding, filled with disgust.

“Oh. You a smart one, huh?” jeers a man behind her. Allison refuses to turn around, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing her rattled.

The door opens and the whole room falls silent. Allison knows that, if this was one of her movies, there would be dramatic music playing behind this scene. It’d be the climax, the turning point after which things start to improve. 

But this isn’t a movie. The only background music they get is the horrified gasps and insulting comments of the white people surrounding them. 

Allison waits until her friends are all standing behind their chairs.

“We’d like to be served, please,” she says to the hateful man behind the counter. He’s so angry his hands are shaking. 

Everyone sits down, chairs squeaking. Most of them clasp their hands similarly to Allison, who continues to stare down the man. 

“You are not welcome here,” the woman next to him spits, setting the tone for the rest of their night. 

Almost an hour later, Allison tries to focus on other things as a man pours soda over her head. Next to her, Odessa flinches at the cold liquid running down her neck. 

“Next shift’s about to start anyway,” she murmurs when she sees Allison looking her way. “Just a little bit longer.” 

Allison nods tensely. She hasn’t been relaxed since before she entered the diner, barely able to breath with all the screaming in here. 

Behind her, the crowd pushes closer, making her feel claustrophobic. Her breath catches in her throat and she unconsciously edges a bit closer to the counter. 

“Get the hell out of here!” someone shouts. 

“Yeah, get out!” 

Someone yells several slurs, and Allison has to close her eyes for a moment to compose herself. That’s a mistake. 

In the time it takes for her to take a breath, the man behind the counter pushes a cup of piping hot coffee into her lap. 

Allison shrieks in pain, jumping up and backing straight into a police officer, almost like it was planned. 

“That’s it!” he yells, twisting her arm roughly behind her back. “You’re outta here!” He slams a struggling Allison face first into the counter and starts trying to cuff her. 

Odessa leaps to her feet, already screaming at the officers. “Let her go! Stop it!” 

Allison jerks her arm away from the cop and he grabs it back, then slaps her right across the face. She cries out in pain as he forces her wrists into a pair of cuffs.

Odessa yells again and moves to push him off, but another cop strikes her across the back with a baton. She falls, two men slamming her head into the ground while the cop tries to arrest her.

“Odessa!” Allison screams. The cop slaps her again and she tastes blood. 

“Everybody, hands up!” another officer is yelling. 

Two men start to drag an almost limp Odessa out of the diner. Her leg jerks out and one of the men kicks it.

“Odessa!” Allison is almost sobbing. She shakes roughly against the officer’s hold. “Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it!” 

“Let her go!” one of her friends shouts from beside her. “We have a right to be here!”

Another woman runs over and physically yanks the cop off of Allison, who immediately turns to run after Odessa. 

Outside, the police have released smoke bombs, making it difficult to see. 

“Disperse or you will be arrested!” someone shouts over a bullhorn. 

Allison pushes through the crowd of shouting protesters and police, coughing loudly. She knocks into someone as she reaches the other side, emerging into the clean air while desperately scanning the street for her friend. 

She spots Odessa, struggling weakly as the two officers forcibly push her into a police car. She shouts something and one of them hits her with his baton, then pushes her to the ground.

“Odessa, no! No!” Allison screams, running up the scene. One cop grabs her around the waist, stopping her from moving closer. “No!” She struggles against his hold. “Stop!”

The other cop hits Odessa again, then turns to point at Allison. “You’re next!”

Odessa is barely moving. 

“Stop it, you’re killing her!” Allison shrieks, just as another protester tackles the man holding her. She pushes him off her. 

Allison strides up to the man beating her friend, and grabs his baton, holding him back. He turns to yell but it’s too late.

“I heard a rumor,” Allison hisses, suddenly not scared anymore. “That you walked away.” 

The man’s eyes turn white and she releases him. He drops his baton with a clatter, stumbling away as if in a daze. 

Allison closes her eyes in pain at having used her powers, ruining her two year streak. Odessas’s groaning quickly snaps her out of it. Allison kneels next to her friend.

“C’mon, we have to get you out of here,” she says in a rush. “They’ll come back. C’mon.” She slowly helps Odessa to her feet, the older woman leaning heavily on her shoulder. 

“What did you do?” Odessa murmurs, dazed. Her nose is bleeding from being shoved into the ground. “Allison?”

“Tell you later,” Allison says, distracted with keeping them both upright. “We have to go.”

Odessa mutters her agreement, both women stumbling down the road towards Allison and Ray’s house. It’s luckily only a few streets away so Allison is soon supporting Odessa up the stairs to her front door. 

She struggles to pull her key out of her pocket and also hold up her increasingly limp friend. Allison eventually gets it unlocked and quickly pulls the door open, kicking some box out of the way while she’s at it.

As she locks the door behind her and settles Odessa on the couch, she can’t help but be slightly grateful that Ray wasn’t at the sit-in. At least he wasn’t a witness to Allison’s weakness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my longest chapter yet!


	8. Altercation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus just wants to kiss Dave. The World says no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, someone uses the f-slur against Klaus in this chapter. I don't consider queer a slur, but it's used as an insult here as well. Take care of yourselves! <3

“Klaus, you know you don’t have to do this,” Ben says. He’s sitting on the bed in Klaus’s motel room, clothes strewn around him. His voice is soft, imploring. 

“Everything needs to go exactly the same,” Klaus says, a bit of mania in his eyes. He pulls the shirt he bought this morning over his head. It’s striped yellow and too small for him. The tiniest strip of skin shows on his stomach—the closest he can get to a crop top in 1968. He’s pairing it with blue pants, also striped.

“What was I thinking last time?” he bemoans, looking at himself in the mirror. “Stripes on stripes? Who do I think I  _ am _ ?”

“Klaus,” Ben says again, quietly. 

Klaus turns around abruptly. “What?” There’s a bit of eyeliner smudged around his eyes, just below the amount that can’t be ignored in polite society. 

Ben gets up from the bed and gently grabs his brother’s shoulders, taking a moment to revel in his ability to touch. “It doesn’t have to go exactly the same.  _ Especially _ when it comes to the drinking.”

“But, Ben—”

Ben interrupts him. “No buts! Dave already has feelings for you, okay? I can see it whenever he looks at you. If he doesn’t kiss you tonight, then he’ll kiss you tomorrow. You don’t need to be drunk for him to make a move.”

Klaus pouts at him for a moment. “What if I want him to kiss me tonight?” 

Ben rolls his eyes, grabbing Klaus’s chin and lightly shaking it. “Then I guess you’ll have to make the first move, you big dumbass. Besides.” He moves away from Klaus to sit back on the bed. “You already told him you’re a recovering addict. What’s he gonna think if you drink tonight?”

Klaus groans dramatically and stomps back to the corner where his bag has been thrown open and rummaged through. He sticks his hands in and starts to dig again. 

“What are you looking for?” Ben asks, turning his head to the side.

“A different pair of goddamn pants,” Klaus answers, voice slightly muffled as he picks his bag up and dumps it out. “But all I seem to  _ have _ are stupid army pants!”

A bundle of fabric hits the back of his head, jolting him forward. “Hey!” Klaus picks it up and it reveals itself to be a dark blue pair of pants. “Yes!” 

Ben scoffs. “You put all your new clothes on the bed.”

“Never have I been so happy to see an article of clothing that’s one solid color,” Klaus announces happily, ignoring his brother’s negativity. He practically rips his previous pair of pants off in favor of these new ones.

Klaus fairly skips over to check himself out in the mirror. “Perfect!” He runs a hand through his hair. “Okay.”

“You’ve got this, Klaus,” Ben says encouragingly. “You’re doing great.”

“I can do this,” Klaus repeats to himself. “No drinking. I can do this.” He moves towards the door confidently, but he doesn’t even get halfway there before he’s stopping dead in his tracks. 

“I can’t do this, Ben!” Klaus cries, turning back to face his brother. “You know me, I’m a mess! I don’t even want to be sober. I mean, you’ve seen the ghosts around here.” 

Ben’s face darkens. “Klaus, stop it! You’re trying to freak me out so that I won’t be surprised when you relapse, which you’re  _ not going to do _ . I can see right through you. And.” He hesitates for a moment. “I know the ghosts are bad. But you’re doing so well! Imagine what you’ll be able to do in a month. A year, even. Your powers could be the difference between saving Dave and not saving Dave.”

Klaus groans and collapses on the bed next to Ben. “Stop making sense! You know I hate that.” He buries his face in the pillow, his next words coming out muffled. “It’s just hard.”

“I know,” Ben says softly, reaching out to run a hand through Klaus’s hair. After a moment, his hand falls through Klaus’s head. “Oh, sorry.” He snatches it back.

Klaus rolls over to shoot him a sheepish look. “My bad.”

“It’s fine.” Ben brushes it off. “Don’t you need to get going?”

Klaus pulls his arm up to look at his watch. “Fuck. Yeah, I do.” He forces himself upright, heading towards the door for real this time. “Coming?”

Ben sends him a mischievous grin. “I have faith in you.” He motions for Klaus to continue walking, and his brother sends him an annoyed glare.

“Hell of a time to abandon me,” Klaus says, crossing his arms. When Ben just stares at him, he continues. “Fine, screw you!” He storms out and slams the door. 

Ben waits. 

It’s barely two seconds later that Klaus opens the door again to stick his head back in. “Said with love!” He blows a sarcastic kiss in Ben’s direction, then leaves for real. 

Ben just rolls his eyes fondly, settling back on the bed for a bit of peace and quiet. “Fingers crossed,” he murmurs to himself. “You’ve got this, Klaus.”

Since their unit was dropped off this morning, there’s been a nearly unspoken agreement to go their separate ways for at least part of the day. No matter how well the men get along, there’s only so long you can spend in someone’s company before you start to go a little crazy, and they hit that point weeks ago. 

Klaus decided to spend the day shopping for new clothes, as all he had was his fatigues and the outfit he arrived in, neither of which were appropriate for wandering around Saigon in 1968. 

He’s been very successful in his search, bringing back four possible outfits. Klaus also has plans to go shopping again tomorrow, hopefully with Dave if the other man wants to join. 

That’s for tomorrow though. Right now, he has plans. 

It’s fortunate that everyone is as excited to hit the bars as they are to have some privacy because Klaus has been looking forward to this night since he arrived in Vietnam. If all goes according to plan, tonight is the night he and Dave have their first kiss. 

Klaus locks his door as he leaves his room, then heads down the hallway, a bounce in his step. He pushes open the exit doors with a flourish, bounding eagerly out into the night air. Fortunately, the heat from the day has mostly subsided, though a thick blanket of humidity still lays over the city. 

Klaus ignores it in favor of scanning the dark street in front of him. Their motel sits on the corner of two side streets, a little ways away from downtown Saigon. It’s mostly a residential area, though a few restaurants can be found scattered throughout the surrounding streets.

Last time around, Klaus had a  _ lot  _ of good food at a certain restaurant two streets over, an experience he very much wants to revisit. 

On a brighter lit corner down the street, a small crowd is gathering, comprised of most of Klaus’s unit. There’s Jeff and Connor, both already buzzing on  _ something  _ by the looks of them. Reynolds has Roger in a headlock, while Mitch and Adam laugh at the scene. Even Jimmy (who Klaus has never spent much time with, if he’s being honest) stands off to the side, mid-conversation with Dave. 

Klaus strolls up to them like he’s not arriving almost fifteen minutes past the agreed upon time. 

“There you are, Hargreeves!” Mitch says when Klaus gets closer.

“Hey, what took you so long, prophet?” Connor exclaims with a wide grin. “Thought you could see the future?” His pupils are huge and he’s practically hanging off of Jeff, who doesn’t seem much better. Klaus has to tamp down his concern, knowing he’s a hypocrite. 

Dave’s face lights up when he sees Klaus, though he schools it after a quick glance at the others. “Hey, Klaus.”

“Oh, you know me,” Klaus says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Always have to look my best!” He gestures to his clothes, doing a lazy spin. “Right?” 

Connor and Jeff both send him a sloppy thumbs up, though Mitch just snorts and rolls his eyes. They’re all pretty used to Klaus’s nonsense at this point.

Dave’s face does something strange when he glances down at Klaus’s clothes. Klaus only notices because he’s looking, but Dave seems almost… confused, or possibly disappointed.

Klaus risks a glance down at himself. Are his pants unbuttoned or something? Everything seems to be normal, so he just starts walking when the rest of the group does.

Jimmy quickly falls into step beside Klaus. “So, your shirt shrink in the wash or something?” he asks.

On Klaus’s other side, Dave’s feet hesitate for a moment as he turns towards them, mouth open in slight alarm. 

“What?” Klaus asks with a confused smile. 

“I asked if your shirt shrunk in the wash,” Jimmy continues, a mean glint in his eye. “Or are you just tryin’ to look queer?”

Oh. Right. This is why Klaus doesn’t hang out with Jimmy.

The conversation in front of them stutters to a stop, several men turning to look back at them, clearly unsure how to respond. To be fair, everyone’s been doing a remarkable job ignoring Klaus’s queerness since he arrived, so kudos to them, but he knew it couldn’t last forever.

Dave’s jaw sets. “Jimmy-”

Klaus interrupts him, smile still fixed on his face as he affects an almost flirtatious tone. “Why, Jimmy, are you  _ asking _ ?”

Jimmy blinks in surprise, clearly shocked that his shitty power play didn’t work. He grabs Klaus’s arm to pull him to a stop. “What?”

“ _ Well _ , I’m flattered, of course, and you know I’m not one to judge other people’s sexual preferences,” Klaus replies innocently, reaching out to pat Jimmy’s chest. “But, man, if you keep undressing me with your eyes, I’m gonna catch a cold.”

The men in front of them start to mutter, one or two of them snorting in amusement at Klaus’s comment.

Jimmy’s face turns red. “Hey, fuck you, faggot!” He takes an aggressive step towards Klaus, fists raised in threat. Klaus can’t help flinching back, and suddenly Dave is there.

“Woah, take it easy, man!” he exclaims, grabbing Jimmy’s shoulders and forcing him back. “It’s just a fucking joke. Calm down.” 

Jimmy yanks himself back, out of Dave’s grasp. “He can’t say that  _ I’m  _ the queer. I mean, look at him!” He gestures to Klaus. 

Klaus gives him a sarcastic wave, trying to brush off his rapidly growing nerves. Unfortunately, Jimmy seems to take it as confirmation. “See! It’s bullshit! And don’t think I haven’t noticed that black shit around his eyes. The army’s no place for fags.” He cracks his knuckles and shakes out his hands. 

“Do we have a problem?” Klaus asks, growing serious for once. He moves forward until he’s level with Dave. “Cause you can tell me if we’ve got a problem.” 

Jimmy’s face darkens with fury, fists clenching at his sides. He looks to the other men standing off to the side. He’s presumably looking for backup or support or, at the very least, approval. 

There’s none of that.

Mitch very carefully avoids Jimmy’s gaze, offering no acknowledgment whatsoever. In 1968, that’s almost stronger than downright disapproval. Adam glances between Klaus and Jimmy, seeming conflicted, which is probably fair. He’s never been Klaus’s closest friend, but no matter how bitchy he acts, he’s also never been violent. 

Jeff’s brows are furrowed in confusion. He whispers something to Connor, and both men lower their gazes to the ground. They’re much more sober than they were five minutes ago, though their pupils are still bigger than the moon. 

“Take a fucking breath, man,” Reynolds says, crossing his arms. “You can’t be getting into fights before you’re even drunk.” He rolls his eyes with forced confidence, then scratches his neck nervously. 

“Just leave Hargreeves alone,” Roger pipes up, surprisingly earnest. “What’s he ever done to you?”

Klaus turns to the kid in incredulous shock. “Roger, you don’t even  _ like  _ me.” Roger ignores him, sending a fierce glare towards Jimmy.

Dave nudges Klaus behind him with a quiet shushing noise. “Jimmy, I don’t think you wanna start something right now.”

Jimmy’s mouth is open in outrage. “I can’t-”

“Just go back to your room, man,” Mitch says, still avoiding everyone’s eyes. 

“Yeah, if this is you sober, I don’t wanna see you drunk!” Connor exclaims with a nervous laugh. He sniffs and scrubs at his nose. 

Klaus has to tear his eyes away from  _ that  _ particular disturbing sight as Jimmy throws his hands up in annoyance. 

“Bunch of pussies,” he mutters and turns to storm back towards the motel. 

“Hell yeah!” Klaus shouts with a grin, not even trying to be quiet. Ahead of him, Jimmy twitches violently but doesn’t stop walking. He turns back to his friends. “Aw, you guys didn’t have to do that. I could’ve handled Jimmy-boy back there.” 

Mitch smacks him roughly on the back of the head. “Let’s go, idiot.”

“Ow!” Klaus complains. The words are fond, though, so when Mitch starts walking again, he’s sure to follow. 

~~~~~~~

Luther wakes up bright and early. He hops out of bed and moves towards his dresser, hoping to find a nicer outfit than the one he wore yesterday. On the way, he switches on his radio, an upbeat rock n roll song filling the room. He finds himself humming along as he pulls a shirt over his head. 

At some point in the next few hours, Luther is going to see Allison again. He easily finds himself imagining a happy reunion, probably involving tears (from him more than her, if he’s being honest). He’s just  _ missed  _ her, so much. 

Of course, he’ll also have to break the news that Five is here with warnings of another Apocalypse. Allison will also undoubtedly want to see Vanya again, which will probably lead to more than one awkward conversation. 

Luther’s aware that he probably freaked his amnesiac sister out with his profuse apologies the other day. Hopefully, he can cancel that out by introducing her to her sister. 

It’s because of these thoughts filling his head that Luther misses Five teleporting into his room. 

“Luther.”

Luther shouts and hurriedly turns around. He screws up his face in confusion. “Five? What are you doing here?”

Five scoffs and crosses the room to open the door, where… Vanya is waiting. She offers him a smile and a little wave that Luther finds himself returning without really thinking about it. 

She enters the room and Five closes the door behind her. 

“We need to talk,” he says as Vanya settles herself on the bed. “Doomsday is coming and we need the full force of the Academy to stop it.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said last time, Five,” Luther replies with an eye roll. He reaches back to close his drawer, then turns off the radio. “And we all know what happened then.” He tries his hardest not to look at Vanya as he says that, but isn’t very successful. 

Vanya just seems mildly confused. 

Five sighs explosively. “Yes, I know, I scattered you all throughout the sixties. How many times do I have to apologize for this?”

“Wait, I thought it was this or die in the Apocalypse?” Vanya interrupts quietly. When they turn to look at her, she holds her hands up in innocence. “I just mean, I’d rather be here than dead in a meteor strike, is all.”

Luther examines her face for a moment, then turns back to Five. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

“Tell me what?”

Five glares at Luther. “ _ No _ . Because it’s not  _ important  _ right now.” He sighs. “Vanya, listen-”

“Is this about the Apocalypse?” Vanya rushes to get out. “I… I thought you were leaving something out. Something about me.” She stares Five down, straight faced. 

Five hesitates, mouth hovering open. 

“It was you, Vanya,” Luther says gently, moving to sit down next to his sister. “You caused the Apocalypse.”

“Luther!” Five hisses. He throws his hands up in exasperation when his brother ignores him.

Vanya looks gutted. “How?”

“Uh, you got angry,” Luther says, struggling to frame it in a delicate way. “Lost control, and you… blew up the moon.”

“You can’t just say that,” Five mutters, running a hand through his hair. He starts to pace back and forth in front of his siblings. 

“It slammed into Earth, wiping out everything,” Luther continues as Vanya’s eyes fill with tears.

“Why would I do that?” she says in a tremulous voice. 

“It’s complicated,” Luther says, scooting a little closer to Vanya. “Look… you had kind of a bad childhood.”

“We were all to blame,” Five interrupts him, crouching down in front of Vanya with a surprisingly earnest expression. “We treated you horribly as kids, isolated you because our father encouraged it. When we found out about your powers, some.” He sighs to himself. “Some poor decisions were made all around.”

“Like what?” Vanya whispers, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“I-” Five clears his throat. “We thought we needed to stop you, that you were dangerous. We should’ve just talked to you. Vanya, I’m so sorry.”

“Were you ever even gonna tell me?” Vanya says, roughly scrubbing at her face. 

“No.” 

“Five!” Luther complains. 

“Can you blame me?” Five says, standing back up. “When you get angry, shit blows up.”

Vanya stands up and marches towards the door. “I’m going back to the farm.”

“What?”

“Unacceptable, Vanya! We need to stick together.”

Vanya pulls the door open and stops, looking back at Five. “Are there any other family secrets you failed to mention?” The door slams behind her. 

Five groans loudly. Luther lets out a breath, staring wide-eyed at his smaller brother. 

“Well, that went well,” he says. Five turns to glare at him, so Luther uses his trump card. “I know where Allison is. Wanna come find her with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was literally supposed to be the disco/bar scene??? It got away from me a bit, yeah


	9. Disco 2.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bar scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! On my computer, I'm calling this story 'Vietnam 2.0'

It takes a surprisingly short amount of time for the remaining men to make it to their bar of choice, especially considering the drama it took to get them there. Soon enough, they’re crossing a dark street and following the music inside. 

The bar itself is just as Klaus remembers it—loud, crowded, and smelling strongly of weed. He hangs back a little at the entrance as his friends stream inside, all excited to get drunk and relax.  _ Ben has faith in you _ , he reminds himself.  _ You can do this. _

“You okay?” Dave asks, suddenly appearing at his side and placing a hand on his elbow. Klaus jumps, unable to stop himself from flinching, and Dave immediately pulls his hand back. 

“Yeah,” Klaus says, drawing out the word sheepishly. “It’s just, you know me and alcohol. Old friends!” He gives a lackluster version of jazz hands, waiting for Dave to dismiss his concern and go inside.

“Oh,” Dave says, the single syllable heavy with understanding. He pauses for a moment, watching several Vietnamese women exit the bar supporting a very wobbly man. “Do you want to ditch?”

Klaus blinks in surprise, turning fully towards Dave. “What?”

“Do you want to leave?” the other man reiterates with an almost indulgent smile. They both step to the side to let a group of soldiers pass. “There’s no point in staying if you’re not going to enjoy yourself.” 

“I’ll be fine!” Klaus insists, grabbing Dave’s arm and starting to tow him towards the door. “Don’t worry about me.”

Dave pulls him to a stop. “Promise you’ll tell me if you’re not?” His face is earnest. 

Klaus can’t help smiling. If he squints, he can almost convince himself he sees love behind Dave’s eyes. “I promise. Now let’s get you fucked up!”

Dave laughs, eyes crinkling up as he finally allows Klaus to drag him into the bar. They’re met with cheers from a group of somehow already tipsy soldiers. Connor and Reynolds hold up their drinks in greeting, both grinning like loons. 

The next few hours are a blur of Dave being goaded into doing shots, and Klaus mysteriously disappearing whenever they refresh their drinks. No one’s hit the dance floor yet, but it’s only a matter of time, especially if the women who’ve been circling them all night have any say in the matter.

Klaus keeps a glass in his hands fairly consistently, usually full of seltzer water, to keep the others from asking any awkward questions. He squeezes a slice of lime in at one point and feels unbearably fancy. 

“Are you having fun?” Dave asks him while the others are occupied with chanting and an outrageous amount of shots. He’s leaning in too close, a hand braced on Klaus’s knee, breath hot on his ear. 

Klaus turns towards him, not pushing him away. “Yeah,” he says, and it’s only partially a lie. “I am, I promise.” He catches his straw in his mouth and takes a long sip.

Dave grins, eyes drifting downward to fix on Klaus’s lips. He sways forward.

Connor shouts something across the table, and Klaus chokes on his drink. He faces forward to pound himself on the chest a few times. 

“Damn, Hargreeves, you good?” Reynolds asks, leaning back to see around Mitch.

“Fine,” Klaus gasps out, giving him a weak thumbs up. He sputters for another moment, then lets out one final cough. “Okay, I’m good.” Taking a deep breath, he looks back to Dave. 

Dave faces firmly forward, swirling his drink around idly and giving no indication that he almost kissed Klaus less than thirty seconds ago.

Klaus allows his attention to wander back towards the rest of the group, already missing the warmth of Dave’s hand on his knee. 

“So, he grabs the rock and throws it across the field,” Connor wheezes, halfway through some wild story. Jeff is laughing so hard next to him that no sound is coming out. “Except it bounces off a tree and knocks his brother right in the head!” 

Reynolds roars with laughter. “Sounds like he deserved it!” 

Connor laughs and takes a swig of his beer, having given up on the shots. “That’s what I said! But I guess he disagreed because he literally  _ chased  _ me home. I had to get my mother involved to get rid of him!” 

Mitch snorts. “How fucking old were you?”

“Fucking  _ sixteen _ !”

Roger and Adam start cackling, not really having been paying attention. They’re in the middle of a drinking contest, twelve empty shot glasses scattered on the table between the two of them. 

Dave gasps and grabs Klaus’s arm. “I love this song!” 

Klaus tilts his head to listen to the changing music, unsurprised to find a Doors song blaring over the bar’s radio. Dave chugs down the rest of his drink and jumps to his feet, chair screeching back.

The others watch in bemusement as the women stalking their group quickly sweep Dave up and onto the dance floor. Adam takes the opportunity to heavily prop his leg up on Dave’s empty chair.

“Saw that coming,” Mitch says, leaning back in his chair with a half empty glass. 

“Hope he doesn’t try to kiss ‘em,” Reynolds adds, stretching his arms up in the air with a groan. “They’ll probably make him pay for it.” 

Klaus forces a laugh along with everyone else, unwilling to explain why he doesn’t find the joke funny. Instead, he turns to watch Dave drunkenly flail around the dance floor, surrounded by women. Klaus laughs a bit more genuinely at the mildly panicked look on Dave’s face.

“Should we rescue him?” Roger asks after a moment.

“Rescue him?!” Adam says incredulously. He finishes his drink. “Fuck no, I’m joining him!” He gets up and doesn’t take more than two steps before another few women are grabbing at him. 

“Cool!” Roger says, following a bit unsteadily. Mitch and Reynolds shrug as if to say  _ why not _ and join their friends. To be fair, though, the women are probably the bigger attraction. 

Klaus pauses for a moment, eyes sweeping over their mostly abandoned table, along with the rest of the bar. The smell of weed is still hanging over him, the bar is wide open on the other side of the room, and for a moment, Klaus is struck by an overwhelming urge to break his sobriety.

It’d be  _ so easy  _ to go over and order a shot or five. He could ask Jeff and Connor for a hit of whatever got them so fucked up earlier. Adam usually has something on him and Klaus is sure that he’ll share if someone asks nicely enough. 

“Stop it,” Klaus mutters and slaps himself lightly on the neck. Behind him, a woman lets out a high-pitched laugh, and Klaus pushes himself to his feet. 

Jeff and Connor turn to him, startled, from where they remain at the other end of the table. Klaus sends them a pale imitation of his usual grin, then sweeps away, leaving the two younger men to shrug and return to their mostly incoherent conversation. 

Klaus navigates through the bar easily, dodging grabby hands and sharp elbows. He quickly escapes the dance floor and darts through the beaded curtain dividing the front and back of the bar.

He stops in the hallway behind the bar, out of the way from stray employees and wandering customers both. ( _ It’s where you had your first kiss _ , a voice practically screams in his head.)

Klaus shakes out his hands and takes a steadying breath in. When that doesn’t help, he scrambles for his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up, the comfortable smell filling him with almost instant relief. Thank god for the endless card games. They’re keeping him flush with cigarettes. 

Leaning back against the wall, Klaus raises his cigarette to his mouth and imagines that Dave is beside him. 

They stumbled through the bead curtain to get away from the crowd and the loud music. Both of them had passed tipsy five drinks ago, and hit drunk pretty soon after, so there was plenty of liquid courage to go around. 

Dave cracked some dumb joke that Klaus can’t remember now, though he giggled hysterically at the time. Klaus cradled a shot glass in his hand. He didn’t drink it because if he drank it he’d have to leave to get another one, and why would he want to do that?

Dave stopped talking to simply stare at Klaus, the dopiest smile on his face. Klaus couldn’t even make fun of him properly because of the identical one that was lighting up his own. Klaus couldn’t help it! There was a giddiness filling up his stomach and spilling out onto his face. 

He couldn’t remember ever feeling so innocently excited for a kiss before, not even his first. Every kiss he could think of had been transactional. But even the  _ idea  _ of kissing Dave, of touching him, sent sparks through Klaus’s chest. He had butterflies. He was twenty-nine years old and he had butterflies!

Dave guided him into the softest kiss Klaus had ever experienced, and it was… good is too small a word, but Klaus had no other. There was simply nothing to compare it to.

Now, Klaus has memories of countless other kisses—soft, sweet, rough, relieved, a precursor to something, or just a kiss for the kiss’s sake, he has them all. But he still remembers the feeling of standing on the edge of something wonderful, just waiting for Dave to give him that final push. 

He’s standing there now. Klaus finishes his cigarette and puts it out against the wall, letting it drop onto the pile of similar butts that litter the floor. He sighs, leaning his head back to rest against the wall. 

“What am I  _ doing _ ?” he mutters to himself, tapping his fist against his leg. What’s the point of being sober if he can’t even focus on this  _ one  _ thing, if even stepping foot in a bar unsettles him this much? Ben has too much faith in him. 

Well, Ben is also used to disappointment. Klaus nods to himself, crossing his arms to hug his chest and pushing away from the wall. He’ll just have a few shots, enough to take the edge off and nothing more. 

He’ll feel more comfortable. He’ll be more focused. He’ll be on a more even playing field with Dave, even! The list of pros goes on and on. 

Klaus hasn’t taken more than two steps towards the bead curtain when someone is fighting their way through the strings of beads and blocking his way.

“Klaus!” Dave says with a grin, and Klaus’s motivation melts away.  _ Fine _ , he admits to himself.  _ If it means I can keep Dave’s smile, I’ll stay sober _ . 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Dave continues, moving to lean against the wall next to Klaus. He’s fiddling with an empty glass.

“Really?” Klaus asks incredulously.

“Of course!” Dave tilts his head towards Klaus. “You promised you would tell me if you weren’t having fun.” He gives him a gently disappointed frown. “Not disappear.”

“I know,” Klaus says quietly, avoiding Dave’s gaze. “I just needed some air.”

“In a back room?” Dave nudges him good-naturedly. “You okay?”

Klaus quiets, listening to the muffled music from down the hall. Someone is drunkenly singing along so loudly they can be heard over the radio. In the alley behind the bar, someone else is being murdered over and over and over again. But only Klaus can hear that. 

He shakes himself out of it. “Well, I’ve been better. And I’ve  _ certainly  _ been worse. Did you ever figure out what Jeff and Connor are hopped up on?”

“What?” Dave says, blindsided by the abrupt change in subject. “Oh, uh, no. They’re still drinking too.” He leans over to place his empty glass on the floor, then straightens as Klaus begins speaking again. 

“What about Roger and Adam?” Klaus is fishing pretty hard for something to talk about, determined to get the conversation off of his issues. “Who won the drinking contest?”

“Oh, Roger did, but only barely,” Dave answers, an amused smile growing on his face. “Adam fell asleep on the table after his ninth shot, but Roger vomited on the floor about ten minutes later.”

Klaus snickers at the mental picture. “Bet he was real happy about that.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t accuse the drinks of being an enemy combatant,” Dave quips, leaning in closer. 

Klaus throws his head back in laughter and immediately slams it into the wall. “Ow! Shit!” He cringes forward, hands on the back of his head. “Fucking hell.”

“Oh, let me see!” Dave reaches up to pry Klaus’s hands off his aching skull and pull the other man’s head down. He presses his fingers gently over the injured area. “It doesn’t look bad.”

“Sure feels it,” Klaus hisses as he looks back up, suddenly finding himself only a few inches away from Dave’s face. “It, um…” He squints at Dave’s eyes. “How drunk are you right now?”

“Not very,” Dave mumbles, eyes drifting downward when Klaus bites his lip. “Did you break your brain?”

“I don’t think so,” Klaus says breathlessly. Dave’s hand comes up slowly to cradle the side of his neck, fingers tangling in the curls at the base of Klaus’s skull. “Oh.” 

“What?” Dave whispers.

“Nothing,” Klaus replies, suddenly absolutely deliriously happy. He tries in vain to tame his delighted smile. 

Dave gently guides him forward into a kiss, giving him plenty of time to pull away. Klaus sinks easily into the motion, hand coming up to hold Dave’s elbow, mind going blank. 

The crowd in the other room is shouting over shitty rock music, three ghosts are shrieking behind Klaus, and if anyone catches them, they’ll probably be murdered, but all Klaus can think about is Dave’s lips on his. 

It’s the new best kiss of his life. 

They part slowly, reluctantly. Klaus releases Dave’s lower lip and opens his eyes to stare at the love of his life. 

Dave smiles at him almost sheepishly, then lets his forehead fall to rest on Klaus’s shoulder. “That was so much better in real life,” he murmurs.

Klaus laughs, reaching up to run his hand through Dave’s hair. “You've been dreaming about me, Dave-y?”

“Yeah.” Dave looks up at him, still smiling though there’s something intense in his eyes. “Yeah, I have.”


	10. Dave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into Dave's head, and the shortest reunion ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every single word of this had to be pried out of my head with a crowbar and I really don't know why hahah. I literally started it three different ways and was unhappy until I did it this way

_ A laugh, teeth flashing in the low light. _

_ The sound of crickets filling up the jungle. _

_ Itchy sweat down his back, a bubble of irrational happiness filling up his chest. _

_ Dave is giggling like a child and pressing someone against a tree, his whole body flush against theirs. His gun is heavy on his back. “You have to be quiet.” _

_ “Maybe you should make me,” the person says with a smirk, and Dave shushes them. They both laugh again, this time for no reason at all. _

_ They’re supposed to be on watch, Dave realizes vaguely, though he’s much too focused on the green eyes gazing up at him daringly. _

_ Dave finds his face softening into a sappy smile and the person follows suit, the expression fitting so perfectly on their sweet features. _

_ “Are you gonna kiss me, Dave-y?” they ask, leaning forward to make it easier. They already know the answer, of course, but the fun is in the question. _

_ Dave rolls his eyes fondly and catches the other person’s laughter on his lips. He tilts their chin with his hand to deepen the kiss, finding a familiar angle. _

_ The person lets out a deep, contented sigh through their nose, arms coming up to wrap around Dave’s neck.  _

_ Dave’s hand slides back, twisting into the person’s dark curls, his other arm around their waist. “I love you,” he breathes against their lips.  _

_ The person stops and pulls back, his eyes—because it’s Klaus, of course it’s Klaus—wide with shock and a kind of fragility. “What’d you say?” _

_ Klaus tries to pull further away but Dave doesn’t let go of his waist. “I love you?” _

_ Klaus’s face falls, eyes dropping to the ground as if Dave has confirmed his greatest fear. “No, you don’t.” He shakes his head quickly and decisively. “You can’t.” _

_ Dave stops short, having been expecting a rejection, not… whatever this is. “What are you talking about?” _

_ “I’m not that kind of person,” Klaus says, avoiding Dave’s gaze. “The kind you...y’know.” _

_ “The kind you love?” Dave asks skeptically. He wraps his arm a bit more firmly around Klaus’s waist.  _

_ Klaus lets himself be pulled closer, but doesn’t make an effort to reciprocate the gesture. “Someone you have a real relationship with. I mean.” He barks a short laugh. “I can probably count on one hand the number of times someone’s told me they love me.” _

_ Dave’s mouth falls open in horror. He swallows, blinking a few times. “Well, I’ll have to make up for it then,” he blurts out. _

_ “What?”  _

_ “I love you,” Dave repeats firmly, leaning in to kiss Klaus’s forehead. “I mean that. I’m in love with you.”  _

_ Klaus takes in a shuddering breath, finally looking up at Dave’s face. Dave’s unsurprised to see tears in his lover’s eyes.  _

_ He continues. “You don’t have to say it back. I just need you to know.” _

_ Klaus opens and closes his mouth, seemingly grasping for something to say. Dave just pulls him into a tight hug. Klaus comes easily, clinging to him, and Dave doesn’t say anything about his suddenly damp shirt.  _

_ They stay wrapped up in each other for a moment longer before Klaus pulls back, eyes rimmed red, though now mostly dry. He sets his jaw.  _

_ “There are some things you should know,” he says. “I mean, if you’re, if you’re sure about this. About us.” _

_ “I’ve never been more sure about anything, sunshine,” Dave says, reaching up to cradle Klaus’s cheek.  _

_ Klaus leans his face into Dave’s palm, features partially crumpling. “Okay, here goes.” _

Dave wakes up slowly, squinting his eyes open against the bright sunlight streaming in from the window. Sleeping in is a rare enough occurrence here in Vietnam that Dave usually tries to savor it, but that dream won’t let him get back to sleep.

He wipes a tired hand down his face, noting the dried tear tracks on his cheeks and what feels like a film over his eyes. His head aches—a combination hangover and tears leading to a pounding sensation behind his eyes.

He pushes himself up with a groan, somehow managing to keep his eyes open, and finds himself in his motel room. There’s an open suitcase across the room, next to the creaky dresser he’s too scared to open. The flimsy curtains are apparently shit at blocking light, but it would probably be better if he’d closed them. 

His clothes from last night are scattered on the floor and—Dave takes a moment to peek under his covers—yes, he apparently stripped completely last night before falling into bed. He must have drank more than he realized after he and Klaus… 

It takes him another moment of grogginess before he remembers. He’s mostly convinced that the dream was a figment of his subconscious, but that kiss last night certainly wasn't. 

A wide smile spreads its way across Dave’s face at the memory, and he has to roll over and bury his face in a pillow. He just barely avoids screaming like a little girl with her first crush, though the squeak he lets out tells him it’s a close thing. If he were more awake, he’d be kicking his legs in the air gleefully.

Dave takes in a breath of musty air, face still stuck in his pillow. What’s his next step here? He desperately wants to kiss Klaus again, but what if Klaus doesn’t want to? Dave practically had to chase him down last night to get even the kiss he did get.

Suddenly wide-eyed, Dave rolls over to stare up at the ceiling. Did he… pressure Klaus into kissing him? He was almost sober by the time he found the other man, but the memory still isn’t as clear as he’d like it to be. Was everything consensual? 

He creases his brows at the thought. What little he knows about Klaus’s past puts the potentially iffy encounter in an even worse light. 

Just as Dave begins to really spiral, there’s a sudden knock on the door. He lurches upright, clutching at his bed sheets. He’s now very aware of his nakedness and general state of disarray.

The knock comes again, this time in a jaunty pattern. “Dave? You in there?” It’s Klaus. 

Dave jumps to his feet, nearly braining himself on the wall when his leg gets tangled. “Uh, yes! Hold on!” His voice is too high. Oh, he feels sick. 

Klaus mutters something outside, but Dave can’t hear it over the rushing in his ears. He casts around quickly for something to wear, succeeding only in finding a pair of boxers and a button-up he doesn’t bother to close before he stumbles to the door. 

Dave pauses an extra second to run a hand through his hair, realize it’s a lost cause, and decide to open the door anyway. It swings open with a loud creak, the hinges probably as old as the building. 

Klaus stands a little off to the side of the doorway. He turns towards Dave, eyes having been fixed at the end of the hallway, with an almost shy smile. 

“I, uh.” Dave clears his throat, sending a cautious glance down the hall. “Did you want to come in?”

Klaus’s smile widens. “I sure would, Dave-y.” He slips past Dave into the room, seemingly ignorant of how breathless the nickname has left Dave. 

So many conversations with Klaus give Dave deja vu, but especially those in which he uses nicknames. Dave’s genuinely not sure what it is about the jokesy pet names that hit him so hard. He’s also not positive on why he gets deja vu in the first place, but that’s another problem altogether.

Klaus settles himself on the edge of Dave’s bed as if he belongs there (Dave can’t help but think that he does). 

“So,” Klaus says, giving Dave a knowing grin. “How are we feeling this fine morning?”

“Well, my head’s killing me,” Dave replies cautiously, though he’s relieved by the lack of visible stress apparent in the other man. “So, I suppose I could be better.” He locks the door with a click and moves to sit on the bed beside Klaus. 

Klaus nudges him playfully. “C’mon, I know you have something else to talk about. Or don’t you?” He laughs a bit nervously. “I know you drank a lot last night, but I was kind of banking on you remembering.” He pauses, frowning. “You  _ do  _ remember, right?”

“Of course I remember,” Dave says, placing a calming hand on Klaus’s arm and turning more fully towards him. “I was just worried you’d be mad.”

“Mad?” Klaus looks so genuinely taken-aback that Dave immediately feels silly for having doubts. “Why would I be mad?” 

“Well.” Dave looks down at his lap and rubs the back of his neck. “I couldn’t remember it perfectly and I was worried I pressured you into it.” He keeps his gaze fixed downward until he can’t stand the silence anymore.

When his eyes finally find their way back up to Klaus, Dave’s surprised to see him blushing. 

“I forgot how sweet you can be,” Klaus admits, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “You didn’t pressure me.”

“Are you sure?” Dave can feel his face twisting in sincerity. “I know I can be a bit much when I’m drunk.” He stops talking when Klaus leans towards him. 

“You’re  _ never  _ too much,” Klaus says, reaching out to rest a hand on Dave’s knee. Dave sways a bit further into Klaus’s orbit, feeling rather like he’s being pulled in by a magnet. He places his hand on top of Klaus’s. “Besides, I really like you.”

Dave practically bursts with happiness. “I really like you, too.” 

They beam at each other like love struck fools, but neither make any effort to stop. Klaus’s hand starts to stutter its way up towards Dave’s face, and Dave leans into it. He welcomes the warmth of a callused hand on his cheek. 

“How bad’s your headache?” Klaus asks quietly.

“Better now that you’re here,” Dave answers cheekily. 

Klaus rolls his eyes, but there’s no mistaking the fond glint in his eyes. “Flirt.” He lets go of Dave and jumps to his feet. “C’mon, let’s go get some breakfast.” 

Crouching down, he starts buttoning Dave’s shirt up for him. Dave lets out a quiet hum and doesn’t even think about stopping him, the motion feeling comfortable and almost familiar. He doesn’t mention how wrinkled the shirt is. 

Klaus finishes and lets his hands fall to rest on Dave’s bare knees. “There.” He smiles up at Dave. “Perfect.”

Dave gives him an amused smile, and Klaus suddenly seems to recognize the position he’s in. 

“Uh!” He jumps to his feet and shuffles back a few steps. “I can, y’know, wait outside.” He’s blushing again. 

Dave just snorts a laugh. “You’re okay, Klaus.” 

Klaus gives him an awkward salute and backs out of the room, nearly stumbling over the bunched-up hallway carpet. Dave laughs again as the door shuts behind the other man. 

He gets up to search for pants with a light heart. He’s almost entirely forgotten his latest weird dream, his headache is gone, and he kissed Klaus. He kissed Klaus! All is right with the world.

~~~~~~~~~

Five leans against the building as Luther knocks on the door. The sun is shining bright in the sky, the people walking past on the street are giving them dirty looks, and Luther is having a panic attack. 

Well, that last one’s not quite true. But Five will be lying if he says he’s not judging his brother pretty hard right now. 

Luther takes in an exaggeratedly slow breath and wipes his hands on his pants. 

“Are you serious right now?” Five asks incredulously. “It’s just Allison.”

“Shut up, Five.”

Five rolls his eyes, amused, and casts around for something interesting to look at. He sees that there’s an envelope sticking out of the letterbox next to the front door, and can’t stop himself from grabbing it.

“Five, don’t,” Luther chides, though his heart’s not in it. 

Five checks the return address first. He doesn’t recognize it, but it’s the home address that’s important.  _ Raymond Chestnut _ . 

“Uh, Luther, are you sure-” 

The door swings open violently and a rough-looking Allison is suddenly staring them down. She has straight hair, something Five hasn’t seen on her since they were teenagers and wasn’t expecting. 

“What?” She looks between them with her mouth hanging open, shock quickly shifting into joy. “Luther! Five!” She practically throws herself into Luther’s chest, and he’s catching her with ease, all signs of nervousness gone.

She runs her hands over his shoulders as if checking that he’s all there. “Oh my god, I thought you were dead! I thought I was the only one left.” She pulls away from Luther, holding him at an arm’s length. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re okay. And Five! You’re okay, too.” She moves towards her smaller brother.

Five extends a polite hand and Allison uses it to pull him into a hug. “Hey!” 

“I haven’t seen you in two years, Five,” Allison says, though she’s beaming when she pulls back from the awkward hug. “Deal with it.” 

Five backs up a step and sticks his hands in his pockets. 

“Oh, come in!” Allison says, smile fading into something a little less blinding, though still pleased. “I have so much to tell you.” She leads them down a hallway and into a brightly lit kitchen. 

Five has to admit that his sister’s done well for herself, even here in the sixties. If he has to guess, he would say rumors are involved, but Five doesn’t like to jump to conclusions. 

“We need to be quiet, though,” Allison is saying as she sits down at her kitchen table, gesturing for them to do the same. “My friend’s asleep up upstairs.” 

Luther sits down across from Allison. “Oh, is she your roommate?”

“Uh…” Allison trails off with a sudden grimace, eyes darting to the side. “No.”

Five wanders over to the other side of the kitchen, attracted by a cluster of picture frames. 

“She got hurt at the riot last night,” Allison continues. “I took her back here to keep her safe.”

“Were you at the riot?” Luther asks, brow creased in concern. “That’s dangerous.”

“I actually helped organize the sit-in,” Allison says to Luther’s obvious shock. “I’m a civil rights organizer.” She sends a glance over towards Five, just as he picks up a photograph. “With my husband.”

“Your what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a big believer in Dave being just as much of a dumbass as Klaus, so in this he is a huge anxious puppy who happens to be in LOVE with Klaus Hargreeves. I don't make the rules


	11. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some development in the middle of our story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me!  
> This chapter is very self-indulgent. That's really all I'm gonna say.

Klaus and Dave fall into a relationship like they’ve been together for years. The two of them enjoy the rest of their leave practically on top of each other, slipping away often for some _alone_ time (Klaus wags his eyebrows at Ben, and his brother flees in only slightly exaggerated disgust). 

They spend a small amount of time with the others, mostly to give them plausible deniability, but every other moment is spent in a hidden corner in the back of a bar, or the privacy of one of their rooms. 

Klaus is ashamed to admit that he can’t quite remember what happened over the course of this week last time around, as he spent most of it high as a kite, but he’s sure this go-around is better. He makes a point to tell Ben this.

Several times. It’s important information, alright?

Klaus thinks this is the happiest he’s ever been. He’s in Heaven (minus the little girl), he’s walking on cloud nine, he’s living his best life, he _has_ to be dreaming because-

“Oh my god, shut up!” Ben exclaims in frustration, throwing his hands up in the air and disrupting their fairly successful game of patty-cake. “I’m glad you’re happy, but please stop talking about Dave already!” 

Klaus pouts at him. “I’m sorry. I’m just-” 

“You’re happy, I know.” Ben rubs a hand over his face. “But if I have to hear about Dave’s baby blue eyes one more time, you’re gonna talk me into having a crush on the guy.” Klaus gasps in offended shock, but Ben continues. “And I don’t even like guys!” 

“Ben, please don’t steal my man,” Klaus jokingly begs, hands clasped together in front of him. 

Ben just groans in response, letting himself fall backwards to lay on the ground. 

It’s pretty late. They’ve set up shop in that private corner of camp to work on Klaus’s powers, though it’s only partially because he needs the practice. Mostly, he just can’t sleep. 

Usually, when his insomnia gets this bad, Klaus downs ten pills and everything goes away for a while. Of course, he usually wakes up in an ambulance afterwards, but that just makes it more exciting. At that point, he’s too high to worry about how messed up he is anyway. 

Klaus is well-aware of how awful he looks and feels right now, with his paleness and bloodshot eyes. It’s progressed to where he can’t hide it from the others anymore. Hell, even Mitch, their resident grump, pulled him aside earlier to tell him to “get some fucking sleep, idiot.” 

Dave’s the worst of them, hanging around with his sad baby blue eyes _(shut up Ben)_ and making Klaus feel guilty. It’s not his fault he can’t sleep!

The point is, everyone’s concerned. It just doesn’t do jack shit to shut up the crowd of screaming ghosts that’s growing by the day. Klaus doesn’t remember it being this bad last time around.

“You were high last time,” Ben mutters as he sits up. Huh, apparently Klaus said that out loud. He must be more tired than he realized. 

“You are,” Ben says, giving him a searching look. “You’ve been bouncing around from sleep deprivation all day. Are you finally crashing?” His words are half drowned out by several high-pitched background screams. The only thing that allows Klaus to understand him is long practice ignoring them. 

“Maybe,” Klaus mutters, eyelids drooping. He’s nearly asleep sitting up when a sudden wordless shriek comes from behind him and he jerks upright. “Fuck!” He whines wordlessly and flops down next to his brother. “Kill me now.”

“Don’t give them any ideas,” Ben warns him, reaching over to run a hand through Klaus’s hair. “You really are getting better at this.” 

Klaus rolls over to stare up at his brother with wet eyes. “I’m _tired_ , Ben.”

“I know.” Ben frowns as his hand starts to flicker. He pulls away. “You know… I've been thinking about your powers. The logistics of them. And, if you can summon ghosts, then theoretically, you should be able to make them go away.”

“You sound like Dad,” Klaus can’t stop himself from muttering. He winces almost immediately. “Sorry, didn’t mean that.”

Ben stares at him for a solemn moment. “You should try.”

“Try what?” Klaus sits up, staring at him in confusion. “I’m running on about an hour of sleep, Benny-boy. You’re gonna have to specify.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “ _Banishing_ them, idiot. Try to make them go away.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried that!?” Klaus bursts out angrily, the comment lighting some sort of fire in his chest. He gestures violently with his hands. “I’ve done everything I could think of to make them go away! Drugs are the only thing that work.”

“How do you know?”

“What?” The question startles Klaus out of his anger as fast as it came on, arms dropping down to land on his chest. 

“You’re in charge, Klaus!” Ben jumps to his feet. “Think of all the progress you’ve made with me, and apply that in the opposite direction.”

“If it was as easy as that I would’ve done it already,” Klaus says, suddenly very tired. He lets out a sigh. “Fine, I’ll try. But you’re gonna be the one comforting me afterwards when it doesn’t work. And I _will_ cry.” 

Klaus closes his eyes, ignoring Ben’s smug look, and tries to focus. 

There’s a specific mindset he has to harness in order to really channel his abilities. It’s almost an acceptance of the spirits surrounding him, though not really. It’s more a… wordless understanding than anything else. Ben gets it, though Klaus doubts either of them could explain it to anyone else.

All through his childhood, Klaus was too focused on the fear to accept or understand his powers, and his father’s “training” methods certainly didn’t help. He got into alcohol at nine, and after that his powers were unofficially useless. It’s really no wonder he never found any form of control before that night in the theater. 

“I’m gonna feel real stupid if this works,” Klaus mutters, wiping his palms on his pants and laying them on his knees, HELLO and GOODBYE facing upwards like an actual Ouija board. He hums a little tune to himself. “C’mon, ghosties. Leave me alone.”

“Focus, Klaus,” Ben says, somewhere off to his left. 

“I’m trying,” Klaus whines, though he stops talking immediately after, turning his attention inward.

His breath evens out after a moment, the action having become more habitual in the past few months. He reaches for the flicker of blue in his chest, that flash of cold that signifies his powers. 

After a moment of concentration, the light separates into many tiny lights, each one signifying a different spirit. There’s one that floats a bit separate from the others, one that Klaus can easily identify as Ben. It’s brighter, somehow. There’s more love in it. 

He nudges it off to the side as far as he can, unwilling to accidentally banish his brother if this somehow works. Not that it will, of course. Because it’s impossible, and that would prove Ben right. 

Klaus shifts his focus towards the rest of the lights, shining brightly and buzzing around inside whatever part of his mind they’re overstaying their welcome in. 

When he makes Ben real, Klaus always imagines himself pushing energy into his brother. Now, he tries to take that same energy away from other ghosts. 

It’s difficult at first, the lights slipping away from him like spaghetti noodles, moving through his fingers. But after a moment of slow breathing and some increased focus, it gets easier. Klaus manages to grab onto a handful of ghosts, a mere fraction of the sheer amount around him.

He begins to suction energy out of them, pushing the ghosts back and away from him. Slowly, a brighter light starts to build around the spirits he has tethered, harsh and difficult to look directly at.

It swallows up the ghosts as if they were never there.

Klaus drops out of his meditative state, panting, with cold sweat on his face. He lets himself fall limply back to sprawl out on the ground, gasping out a laugh. “Holy _shit_.”

“Holy shit,” Ben repeats, staring at Klaus in complete disbelief. “I really wasn’t expecting that to work.”

Klaus groans weakly. “Lying asshole.”

Ben ignores the insult, leaning over to peer at Klaus’s face. “Do you think you can go to sleep now? I think you got rid of the louder screamers.”

“Hell no!” Klaus’s eyes pop open and he springs mostly upright, feeling like he’s riding his second wind. “I’m getting rid of _all_ of them. I will sleep like a baby tonight!.” He hurriedly sets his hands on his knees and starts to close his eyes, ignoring his brother’s sudden protests. 

Ben actually looks slightly alarmed, though, so Klaus pauses. “Uh, Klaus, that’s not a good idea.”

“What? Why not?” Klaus blinks up at him bewilderedly. “You were just on my case about exploring my powers. What changed?”

Ben stares at him in incredulous disbelief. He gestures up towards his own face. “Your nose is bleeding, dipshit.”

Klaus reaches a hand up towards his nose and it comes away red. “Oh.” Have his hands been shaking long? “ _Oh._ ”

A sudden fog seems to settle over his limbs and Klaus can feel his eyes falling shut. His head bobs forward, only sheer force of will keeping him awake. He yawns and mumbles to himself. “Maybe I am ready to go to sleep.” 

Or something along those lines anyway. Ben obviously doesn’t hear him because he starts shouting Klaus’s name like someone’s dying. 

Klaus just waves away his overdramatic brother. “Everything’s fine, Benny.” He leans forward to rest his head in his hands, legs crossed underneath him. “Absolutely perfect.”

Ben audibly shuffles his feet for a moment before crouching down in front of his brother, hands tucked in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Klaus, don’t be stupid,” he says, voice more serious than usual. “Go get some help before you pass out and choke on your own vomit.”

Klaus just groans and remains sitting, silently willing the Little Girl to stop the hammering inside his brain.

His head thankfully stops spinning after another moment of stillness, but Klaus doesn’t move, fearful of the feeling returning. Instead, he squeezes his eyes shut and leans further forward until his forehead is nearly touching the dirt. 

It’s something like ten minutes later before he finally dregs up the motivation to sit up properly, though Klaus can’t take full credit for it. It’s mostly the footsteps coming towards him that finally snap him out of his fugue state. 

“Klaus?” It’s Dave, half-asleep voice thick and confused. “What are you doing up?”

Klaus turns around, too fast judging by his sudden bout of vertigo. He winces and lifts a hand to his forehead. “Oh, fuck.”

Dave says something else and there’s a sudden bout of movement. When Klaus blinks open his eyes again, Dave is crouched in front of him, much the same way Ben was positioned just moments before. 

“God, baby, what happened?” Dave says, eyebrows drawing together in distress. He reaches up to cradle Klaus’s face. 

“I, uh,” Klaus’s excuses stutter to a stop as he tries to collect himself, his mind starting to clear. 

Dave’s face darkens. “Did someone hit you?” 

“What?” Klaus scrunches up his face in confusion. “Oh!” He reaches up to wipe the blood off his upper lip. “No, no, no, no, no, I’m fine. Nothing happened.”

“Klaus, you’re bleeding,” Dave says gently. “Here, let me help you.” He reaches up to guide Klaus’s hands down and away from his face, then uses his sleeve to stem the blood. 

“Nothing happened,” Klaus reiterates after a moment, finally noticing Dave’s clenched jaw. “I think I’m just tired.”

“Well, that’s what happens when you don’t sleep,” Dave says without looking away from Klaus’s nose. His tone is chiding, but there’s a relieved smile playing on his lips. 

“Oh, burn,” Ben mutters behind him. 

“ _David_ ,” Klaus gasps out, ignoring his brother while trying in vain to stifle laughter. “I am _injured_. You can’t be mean to me.” 

“Can I not?” Dave moves his sleeve, now stained with blood, away from his boyfriend. He sits down across from Klaus and crosses his legs. 

Klaus pouts. Instead of answering, he scoots forward until their knees are touching and rests his chin in his hands. 

Dave sends a furtive glance around and, when he presumably judges it to be safe, loses his teasing tone. “Why’re you out here anyway?”

Klaus shrugs. “Oh, you know me. Who needs sleep, right?” He sticks a thumbnail in his mouth and bites down nervously. 

“Is it nightmares? I know you can have pretty bad ones,” Dave asks, beginning to rub Klaus’s knee. “Is it your father again?”

Klaus freezes. “Again? I’ve never told you what my nightmares are about,” he says firmly, feeling his eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I mean, have I?” He inclines his head slightly towards Ben, who is still standing behind Dave. 

His brother silently shakes his head, appearing just as confused as Klaus. 

“I-I mean,” Dave stammers, a blush overtaking his face as he ducks his head to rub at the back of his neck (Klaus can’t help but find it adorable). “Lucky guess?”

“What?”

Dave pushes himself to his feet, dislodging Klaus from his comfortably slumped position. “Like you said, we’re both tired. Let’s just get you to bed. Has your nose stopped bleeding?”

“Uh, yes, but-” 

“Great!” Dave claps his hands together with an awkward grin, then extends a hand to help Klaus up. 

Klaus accepts, of course, letting Dave pull him most of the way to his feet and start leading him towards their tent. 

“Big day tomorrow, too,” Dave is saying quietly, facing front to avoid Klaus’s still very confused eyes. 

“Huh?” Klaus says, hung up on the disorientating conversation and still running on very little sleep. 

“Well, it’s not every day you get shipped out to the front,” Dave responds, voice losing its forced cheer. 

“...yeah,” Klaus agrees, feeling the blood quickly drain from his face. He nearly forgot. He turns his head to one side to exchange wide, serious eyes with Ben, his brother nearly matching his level of sudden concern. 

God, Klaus is really in for it now.


	12. The Front Lines and the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that romantic relationships aren't the only relationships that exist.

The next day starts off cloudy and humid, worse than it was last time around, Klaus is pretty sure. He’s feeling better, in the vague sort of sense that he ever feels anywhere close to good. His nose stopped bleeding before he got to the tent last night and his head isn’t spinning from exhaustion anymore, but there’s still a screaming crowd of ghosts haunting his every step. 

A smaller crowd of ghosts, if Klaus is remembering correctly.

“Did I imagine that last night?” he whispers to his brother. Klaus sits on his cot, leaning over to lace up his boots. His mouth is hidden, partially by his upturned collar and partially by his ever-lengthening hair. (It’s a miracle none of the higher-ups have come after him with scissors yet.)

“No, it was real,” Ben replies at a normal volume, the lucky bastard. His wide grin infects his tone. “You really banished a bunch of ghosts. I’m so _proud_ of you, Klaus.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Klaus murmurs, though he can’t suppress a small pleased smile. “Guess I’m not useless after all.”

“You were never useless!” Ben protests, starting to walk towards his brother. He’s interrupted by several soldiers striding right through him on their way out of the tent. He stops and shudders in, presumably phantom, pain. 

Klaus sends him a commiserating smile and turns his attention to another group of men approaching his side of the tent. Dave heads towards Klaus, while Adam and Mitch finish their conversation with several others nearby.

Across from him, Dave drops down onto his cot, surrounded by the faint smell of cigarette smoke. Whether he was stress-smoking outside or just walked by others who were is unknown to Klaus and doesn’t particularly matter anyway.

“You okay?” he asks instead, mindful of the others in the tent. 

Dave glances up at where Klaus is finishing buttoning his shirt. He starts to stretch a hand out, but quickly yanks it back with a furtive glance around the room. 

“I’m fine,” he says, reaching up to rub the back of his neck with a sheepish smile that Klaus quickly returns. “I mean I’m nervous, but who isn’t, right?” His words are slightly rushed, as if he’s purposely forcing himself to slow down, but not quite getting there. 

“It’ll be fine,” Klaus reassures him, though he’s still trying to convince himself. He nudges Dave’s foot with his own. “I know the future, remember?” 

Dave laughs lightly, kicking his leg out to meet Klaus’s. “I nearly forgot about that. Got any wisdom for us, prophet?”

“Oh, I wanna hear this!” Mitch calls from behind Dave’s bed. They turn to find him grinning at them as he pulls his shirt up over his shoulders and starts to button it. “Give me something to look forward to!” 

Klaus just laughs, waving him off. “Well, I’m gonna piss in the next minute or so, I’ll tell you that much.” He jumps to his feet, pretending to use Dave’s shoulder to steady himself.

Mitch erupts into only slightly nervous laughter, and Adam weakly claps Klaus on the shoulder as Klaus passes him on his way towards the exit.

Klaus ducks his head as he exits the tent, needing to talk to Ben but knowing he has precious little time before they leave camp for the next few days. 

“Better make it quick, Hargreeves,” someone says from behind him. Klaus turns to find Roger, Jeff, and Connor clustered around a few cigarettes around the corner. It was Jeff who spoke. “Bus is leaving in about ten minutes, and the Sergeant’ll kill you if you’re not on it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” Klaus says with a forced smile, pointedly ignoring the way Roger’s eyes are fixed firmly on the ground, as well as how twitchy Connor is. 

Klaus continues around the corner, beginning to murmur frantically to Ben. “This trip is where Adam and Roger both die. Separate incidents, same result. I have _no idea_ how to help them. I barely know what happened last time around.” He runs a quick hand through his hand, wishing desperately that he had some weed. A blunt would be perfect right now. 

He pulls out a cigarette instead and lights it with shaky hands, hiding himself behind a tent. 

“Klaus, it’s gonna be fine,” Ben says in his most stable and reassuring voice. “There’s only so much you can do.”

“I know that!” Klaus snaps, pulling the cigarette away from his mouth and gesturing wildly. “But I can’t just _let_ them die. I want to do better!” Then, quietly- “I want to do better.”

“You _are_ ,” Ben insists. “And I’ll be right there with you. I’m your eyes and ears on the whole battlefield, okay?” 

“Okay, okay.” Klaus nods to himself decisively, taking another long drag and running a hand over his face. “It’s all gonna be fine. I can do this. I’m fighting in Vietnam. I survived a family of seven. I once wore a sarong to a frat party and got a bunch of numbers.” 

“Uh, yeah,” Ben agrees, giving an awkward thumbs up. “You can do this!” He furrows his brows, watching his brother stub out the cigarette and start to head back towards the bus. “How did I miss you doing that?” 

Klaus enters his tent with just enough time to grab his gun and his pack before he runs outside and onto the bus. At the front, Sergeant Blackman sends him a threatening look that Klaus ignores. 

He stumbles into his seat towards the back as the bus starts to pull away, Dave having saved one for him, the angel.

“There you are,” Dave greets him with a small smile, moving towards the window to let Klaus sit down. Klaus returns his smile as he struggles to tuck his pack under the seat. 

“Cutting it a little close there, Hargreeves?” Mitch mutters from across the aisle.

“Shut the fuck up,” Klaus says back, unable to suppress a small grin upon hearing Mitch’s rusty laugh. He finally gets settled and leans back in his seat as much as the uncomfortable thing allows. One of his feet reaches out to press against Dave’s. 

Dave keeps his gaze fixed out the window, but Klaus can feel his leg push closer and has to look away before he does something stupid like try to kiss his boyfriend in front of the little girl God and everybody.

Klaus spares a moment to send a glance around the bus. Up front is a separate unit from theirs, one Klaus doesn’t know well. A few seats ahead, Jimmy is actively ignoring most of the people behind him. To be fair, they’re ignoring him right back.

Connor is picking at his nails next to Mitch, while Jeff stares out the window in the seat behind them. Roger is hunched over next to him, writing something in a little notebook, probably a letter if Klaus is honest. There’s a small picture, wallet-sized, pinned to the next page in the notebook. It’s barely visible from across the aisle so Klaus can’t tell what it is, but he would bet money on a high school sweetheart.

Reynolds is already snoring behind Dave and the rest of the seats are full of the men in their unit that Klaus doesn’t know well. 

Wait a minute… Klaus does a quick mental headcount. Connor, Mitch, Jeff, Roger, Reynolds, even Jimmy. 

“Where’s Adam?” he asks out loud. 

Dave turns to him, blinking in light surprise. “You didn’t hear? The poor guy passed out before he could get on the bus. They think it was heatstroke.” There’s a sympathetic grimace on his face.

“Jesus, is he okay?” Klaus asks though his mind is suddenly running a mile a minute.

Dave waves him off easily. “Yeah, he’ll be fine in a day or too. It must be frustrating, being stuck at camp, though.

“He’s a lucky bastard,” Klaus jokes. “He gets to hang out in the medical tent while we slave away out here.” Dave laughs lightly, fiddling with the strap on his gun as he turns back towards the window. 

Klaus lets the conversation die, fixing his gaze on his lap.

“So, I’m guessing that didn’t happen last time?” Ben says from where he’s standing in the aisle. Klaus nods, unwilling to talk to himself in front of so many people.

“So, is it you?” Ben continues, giving a voice to Klaus’s thoughts. “Or is there another time traveler changing things?”

Klaus quickly shakes his head no. If he starts thinking like that, he’ll be too paranoid to sleep. Of course, he can’t explain that to his brother right now, so he just subtly turns his hand to point to himself. 

“Almost to the drop off point, ladies!” Blackman shouts from the front of the bus, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Remember, quick and quiet, and no one dies!” 

Klaus murmurs his agreement even as he sends Ben a meaningful look and nods his head towards Roger. 

“Right,” Ben agrees and nods, taking a step towards the younger man. “Lookout duty. Hey, at least there’s only one person to look after.” 

The bus rolls to a stop and everyone begins getting to their feet, a hush over the bus. Klaus’s hand darts out and clasps Dave’s for a second. By the time his boyfriend is turning to him with a startled look, Klaus is already out of his seat and standing in the aisle. 

~~~~~~~

Allison closes the front door and turns to lean against it, closing her eyes with a heavy sigh. Her brothers spent much of the last hour interrogating her over her marital status and what she’s been doing the last two years. Luther was particularly interested in last night’s riots, but he switched gears quickly when he learned that she’s married. 

(Yes, Allison knows why. No, she doesn’t want to talk about it.)

Five made her promise to meet up with them tomorrow, explaining that they need to talk about the apocalypse and going home. Allison is not looking forward to that conversation in the slightest. 

She is hoping to see Vanya again. She’s _missed_ her sister even more than her other siblings, although it’s sure to be an interesting reunion if Five is right about her amnesia.

Allison sighs again and pushes away from the door to head back towards the kitchen, just about a million thoughts spinning through her head. 

Above her, footsteps start to make their way down the stairs. Allison rushes towards and up the staircase to steady Odessa.

“Are you alright?” she says, placing a hand on her friend’s elbow.

“I’m fine,” Odessa says, letting Allison help her down the stairs and into a kitchen chair that the younger woman pulls out for her. There’s a dark purple bruise on Odessa’s forehead and she’s favoring her right foot. Allison is pretty sure it’s just sprained, but she’s hoping to convince Odessa to see a doctor to make sure. 

“So, Allison.” Odessa leans forward and stares her down as Allison sits down across from her. “Would you care to explain how you talked down two white police officers last night? I didn’t realize they were listenin’ to black women now.”

Allison opens her mouth, eyes darting to the side. “Um-”

Odessa holds up a hand to stop her. “I’d also like to know what two white boys were doing in your kitchen for the better part of an hour, Allison. You realize this looks bad.”

Allison tries to speak again, suddenly feeling more hurt than offended. “Odessa, what’re you saying?” 

“I’m sayin’ that I trust you, Allison,” Odessa responds calmly, reaching out to place a hand on Allison’s shoulder. “But I’ve got a responsibility to a lot of people, so I need you to be honest with me here. What’s goin’ on?”

“You’re not going to believe me,” Allison says, looking down at her lap where she’s clasped her hands. 

“Then you’ll just have to convince me,” Odessa says, leaning back in her chair with a smile. 

Allison returns it, a small thing, and starts to talk.

~~~~~~~

The jungle always seems louder when they’re trying to be quiet, Klaus is convinced. Every crunch of leaves underfoot seems to echo loudly through the trees and every ghost’s moans seem more grating than usual. 

It’s probably just the stress of holding someone’s life in his hands, he decides. 

Klaus has deliberately placed himself between Dave and Roger, hoping to be able to protect them both if it becomes necessary. The tiny differences in the order of events are really throwing Klaus for a loop, considering that he’s apparently been subconsciously counting on Dave being safe until February. 

If Dave dies early (or at all) because of something Klaus does, Klaus doesn’t think he’ll ever recover from it.

He goes over the timeline in his head. The first day of this trip is fairly harmless, just trekking through the woods in several groups. It isn’t until the second day that they hit enemy territory and need to start actually fighting. 

Klaus and Dave were pretty safe last time because of the angle they were at. Klaus isn’t exactly sure where Roger was, but he knows it was to the left of them. So, maybe if he just keeps Roger close by, that’ll be enough.

The rest of the day passes exactly as Klaus remembers, all the way down to Reynolds falling into a pool of runoff water and everyone laughing themselves sick at his sulky expression.

Through it all, Klaus sticks close enough to Roger that the kid starts sending him suspicious and, eventually, annoyed looks. 

They’re awoken before dawn the next day by Blackman who is obviously raring to get moving, and it’s pretty soon after that that everything starts to go to shit. 

~~~~~~

“Wow,” Odessa says, blinking in surprise. “That’s… a lot to take in.”

“I know!” Allison exclaims, every bit of frustration she’s felt towards her situation emerging at once. “And I can’t even tell Ray because he’ll think I’m crazy! I just…” She sighs, suddenly deflating. “I worked so hard to get away from my abilities, to work for what I have, and I have! I’m so proud of what I’ve built here.”

“Allison.” Odessa leans forward gingerly, shaking off the remnants of her confusion. “You saved my life last night. You understand that, right? You used your powers to save my life.”

“But I should’ve been able to help you without using them,” Allison mumbles. “I should be stronger than this.”

“There wasn’t a better way, honey,” Odessa continues. “You’re plenty strong. And while I don’t fully understand these abilities of yours, I understand _you_. And I trust you to do the right thing when it’s necessary.”

Allison looks up at her friend with wet eyes. “You shouldn’t. I’ve-I’ve made so many mistakes.”

“Well, you’re makin’ up for them, aren’t you?” Odessa pushes herself to her feet and leans over to grasp Allison’s shoulders. “You’re a good person, Allison. Everyone makes mistakes, but you’re growing from them.”

“Thank you,” Allison croaks, reaching her hands up to gently squeeze Odessa’s wrists. The older woman nudges her to her feet and pulls her into a tight hug, Allison’s chin resting on Odessa’s shoulder. After a moment they separate and Allison wipes her eyes. “God, I needed that.”

Odessa smiles at her and goes to get her coat. “I’ve gotta check in on everybody after last night. And you, missy, have a husband to talk to.”

Allison is still conflicted. “But-”

“No ‘but’s!” Odessa points a stern finger at her, only slightly tempered by her amused smile. “Just tell him what you told me. Raymond’s a good man. He’ll understand.”

“Okay. You’re right. Ray deserves the truth.”

~~~~~~~~

They find traces of the Vietcong for about a half mile before actually seeing anybody, and by then it’s too late to do anything but hunker down behind a ridge and hope for the best. The fighting is fast-paced and brutal and lasts for hours, just as it did last time. 

Klaus struggles to divide his attention between shooting accurately and making Ben corporeal enough to deflect bullets. His foot bounces up and down with nervous energy. What if his bad aim fucks up the whole thing?

Beside him, Dave ducks his head just as a lucky shot nearly clips him. “Damn, that was a close one, huh, Klaus?” he shouts.

Klaus’s breath hitches at the familiar phrasing and his eyes dart towards Dave, trigger finger falling still. “Yeah!” His voice is too high. Where’s that medic?

“Klaus!” Ben is shouting from down to his left. “What’re you doing?” Several bullets fly overhead, finding their destination in the trees behind them.

Klaus shakes his head until he feels more focused. “Fuck.” He takes aim and begins shooting again, trying to send even a sliver more energy towards his brother, needing to get something right. His vision blurs around the edges, but he ignores it.

He succeeds. Ben’s corporeality doesn’t start to flicker until the fighting begins to die down. Klaus has been seeing spots in his vision for nearly an hour now and, as it is, can barely tell up from down, but he kept that damn connection open. Call him the lookout now!

The stragglers on the other side are slowly being picked off or running away, so Klaus spares a glance down the line. Everyone appears to be alive and accounted for. Did he actually accomplish something? With minimal sleep and no information, no less?

Klaus turns the other way to check on Dave for the fifth time in the last hour. His boyfriend is gazing intently down the barrel of his gun, trying to spot any Vietcong soldiers that might be left.

A commotion comes from Klaus’s left. There’s shouting and some increased shooting, but what really catches Klaus’s attention is his brother, standing helplessly above a prone body.

One look at Ben’s defeated face and Klaus knows who’s lying there. 

“Medic! Medic!” Reynolds is yelling as he flips Roger over and tries to apply pressure. The kid’s still stirring weakly, but the hole in his chest is bloody and deep, and not doing him any favors.

The world turns on its side. 

Klaus is _tired._

Dave shakes his shoulder. “Fuck, is that Roger?” When Klaus doesn’t respond, he continues, tone more desperate. “Klaus? Are you hurt?” 

“No, no, I’m fine,” Klaus waves him off, eyes still fixed on Roger. He can see a few medics detaching themselves from a clump of injured soldiers farther down the line. 

_Fuck_ , Klaus is tired. 

“Medic!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is interested in Roger and what happened to him the last time around, check out my other story "That Creepy Kid" where he has a short cameo.


	13. Upheaval

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus has some trauma to work through, and by god will the world be confronting him with it. Also, Ben is an asshole, not a therapist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been a hot second since I updated, huh? Well, the new semester just started up so I can't promise when the NEXT chapter will be up, but as a reward for your patience I've got 3000 words of self-indulgent bullshit.   
> This starts off directly where the last chapter ended, so you might want to reread that.

Two medics descend on poor Roger, armed with a lack of medical knowledge and too few supplies for the injury. One of them begins applying pressure to the wound, while the other speaks into a radio, tone sharp and no-nonsense, ordering a medical transport and a bed at the nearest hospital. 

When the message is sent, the man pockets the radio. He turns to dig through his bag, back still turned to Klaus, as he begins passing things to his partner, who is just barely holding Roger’s vital organs inside of his body. 

Chest wounds bleed a lot. Klaus could’ve told him that. 

Reynolds kneels next to the scene, a stricken look and dirt spread across his face. His hands are blood-soaked and twitching, taking turns grasping at nothing. They’re probably still warm with his friend’s blood. 

Klaus wishes he could feel some sort of pity or compassion for Reynolds, but all he can focus on is the overwhelming numbness filling him up. 

The medic with the radio turns to say something to Reynolds, but Klaus doesn’t hear the words. He lets out a quiet shocked noise, suddenly feeling as if he’s been punched. He  _ recognizes  _ this man.

Klaus’s vision tunnels, eyes zeroing in on the medic’s nose, the turn of his lips, the hair he remembers being longer. The last time he saw this man, several months into the future, he was pulling Klaus off of Dave’s dead body.

“—aus?  _ Klaus? _ ” Dave, alive and kicking, interrupts Klaus’s spiraling. 

“Yes, yes, sorry,” Klaus says, turning back towards his boyfriend. “What?”

Dave’s eyebrows furrow in concern. “Klaus, I said your name five times before you responded. Are you okay?”

“Just… shocked,” Klaus responds, beginning to pull himself upright. Dave quickly follows suit, accepting Klaus’s hand to help him into a standing position. Their hands linger for a moment before withdrawing. “Roger’s hurt.”

Dave’s mouth twists. “I know.” He glances towards where the medics are leaning over a weakly gasping Roger and his face resolves itself. “Let’s help clear the area. There’ll be a medical helicopter landing soon, I’d bet.”

Klaus nods quickly. He watches his boyfriend stride decisively away, gun slung over his shoulder, and feels something desperate and panicky lodge in his throat. 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Klaus grits out. He reaches down a suddenly shaking hand to pick up his gun, going through the motions of checking the safety and hooking it onto his back.

Ben, hovering over his shoulder nervously, doesn’t acknowledge that Klaus has already checked the safety twice. “At least-”

“Not now, Ben,” Klaus dismisses him. A blank mask overtakes his face as he begins to help clear the area, as suggested. For a few moments, Klaus only allows himself to focus on the task at hand, as he encourages people to move towards the edges of the field. 

Klaus wraps his arm around the waist of a stranger—he thinks his name is Jacob—with a leg injury and supports him as he limps towards another group of soldiers. They pass the group of people surrounding Roger, and Klaus carefully ignores the-man-who-could-have-saved-Dave as the medic adjusts Roger’s neck. 

The poor kid is finally unconscious, thankfully. The mess of bandages on his chest is soaked through with blood, but he’s still breathing shallowly. 

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Reynolds is gripping tightly onto one of Roger’s hands. He’s sitting slightly behind one of the medics, out of the way, and Klaus would bet anything that he’s watching Roger’s pulse.

Klaus deposits maybe-Jacob next to a few other people, one of whom looks up with a wry smile and shakes a mostly empty water bottle in offering. Klaus shakes his head lightly, eyes still moving around the field and checking on the rest of his unit. A large gap has been cleared in the center of the field, where the tree coverage is sparser, but men are still lingering around all the edges.

The area is remarkably ghost-free. None of the dead men have started manifesting as spirits yet and Klaus sure won’t be summoning them any time soon, especially not with the throbbing in his head. 

He rubs a hand over his eyes and lets himself drop into a seated position. His gun digs painfully into his back.

Klaus sighs and lets it fall next to him, eyes still screwed tightly shut against the bright midday sun. He rubs the meat of his hands roughly against his eyes until dots fill his vision and he’s forced to pull them away. He blinks several times to clear suddenly forming tears.

“Klaus-” Ben starts from behind him. Klaus raises a hand to interrupt him, feeling vaguely like a single comforting word might be enough to shatter him.

“Don’t,” he manages to get out, eyes trained on the ground in front of him. “I’m just-” He lets out an explosive sigh. “I’m just  _ tired _ , Ben.”

His brother’s eyes soften in sympathy. “I know.” He opens his mouth to continue speaking, but is interrupted by the quickly approaching sound of a helicopter. Klaus nearly sags in relief, absolutely not awake enough to listen to his brother’s bullshit pick-me-up speech, not when bullets and bombs are still flying through his head.

The wind flattens the grass as the helicopter comes in for a landing. Klaus meets Dave’s eye from across the field, and his tousled-looking boyfriend gives him a quick smile before turning away. Klaus has a not insignificant urge to start screaming. He gets to his feet instead.

One of the medics Klaus doesn’t know rushes up to the helicopter as soon as it’s settled and starts directing everyone. The blood all up his arms seems to get their attention fairly quickly. They hop to it. 

A stretcher is wheeled out and Roger is carefully moved onto it and strapped in. Even from a distance, Klaus can see his face screw up in pain, apparently not as unconscious as everyone assumed. 

The-man-who-could-have-saved-Dave runs a hand over Roger’s head and says something quietly. It must have been comforting because Roger settles down immediately. The medic speaks quietly to one of the people who arrived in the helicopter and then they’re moving.

Klaus watches Roger get gurneyed onto the medical transport, sees the familiar-unfamiliar medic follow him in. He listens to the distant chopping as he’s taken away, feels the rough wind on his face, and lets out a short bark of humorless laughter. Luckily for Klaus’s continued secret keeping, Dave is on the other side of the field and doesn’t hear. 

There’s a buzz of voices around him as exhausted soldiers try to piece each other back together. There are two fatalities—men Klaus doesn’t know—but Roger is the only serious injury. He can’t actually find it in himself to be happy about that. 

“He’s not dead,” Ben says beside him, voice a low murmur, probably remembering Klaus’s statement earlier. “There’s that.”

Klaus doesn’t respond, mind still spinning with cries for a medic. Dave’s dying body gasps beneath him. There’s blood on his fingers, is that meant to be there, he doesn’t think so. He blinks and it disappears. The spots in his vision are back.

Absently, Klaus looks down at his hands and is somehow unsurprised to see blue sparks sputtering around his fingertips and knuckles. He turns his wrists, fingers spread wide, to expose ‘HELLO’ and ‘GOODBYE’. 

“Klaus?” Dave’s voice comes from behind him. “Are you ready to go?”

Klaus doesn’t turn, mostly convinced it’s some sort of hallucination. Light continues to spark over his palms, growing faster until they obscure some of the tattooed letters. 

“What the hell?” Dave exclaims, placing a hand on Klaus’s shoulder and spinning him around. Klaus goes easily, somewhat enraptured with the lights dancing along his hands and wrists. “Klaus, what  _ is  _ that?” An edge of panic surrounds his boyfriend’s tone.

The lights coat Klaus’s hands as he feels his breathing speed up. The last things he sees before he falls into darkness are the few letters still visible through the swirling blue: ‘HELL’ and ‘GO D’. 

Dave shouts his name and grabs at his shoulders as he falls. 

The next few days are something of a blur for Klaus, as he slips into the kind of dispassionate headspace that served him for years on the streets. He follows an increasingly worried and confused Dave around like a shadow, unwilling to discuss what happened or explain himself to his boyfriend. 

The rest of the unit attempts to support him through his apparent mental breakdown, with very little success. They quickly settle on making sure he eats, drinks water, and follows orders, all of which Klaus does robotically and without complaint—not that he’s complaining about much of anything right now. 

The worry over Roger (who is, last they heard, still fighting for his life in a military hospital) and Klaus manifests itself as a thick layer of tension over just about every interaction the men share. Laughter is more muffled than ever, and card games have become practically silent events. No one from their unit has left camp since they returned from the battle and that probably has a decent amount to do with the increase in arguments and fighting that’s occurred. 

“Klaus, please talk to me,” Ben says, dogging Klaus’s steps as he walks through camp. It’s nearly midnight a week after everyone returned from the front. A few men linger outside of their tents, but the majority are trying to get whatever sleep they can. 

Klaus turns a corner, still three tents away from his quiet spot. Ben takes a quick step and manifests in front of his brother. 

Klaus stops, though he’s looking over Ben’s shoulder to avoid his gaze. He crosses his arms defensively and slouches. “What?”

“What is going on with you, Klaus?” Ben demands. “You’ve been out of it for  _ days _ . What happened to wanting to save Dave?”

“I still want to-”

“How’re you meant to save anyone like this?” Ben cuts him off. He shakes his head and buries his hands in his pockets. “What happened to Roger was terrible and-”

“Ben-”

“-I know you’re upset, but you’ve completely checked out! We did everything we could and-”

“Ben!” Klaus snaps and Ben closes his mouth with a click. Klaus glances around nervously, cautious of his volume, and begins ushering Ben forward, towards the quiet spot. 

“It’s okay to be sad, Klaus,” Ben says quietly, following behind his brother. Ahead of him, Klaus’s fists are clenched by his sides.

“I’m not sad,” Klaus hisses right before they pass a group of men smoking against the side of a tent. He quiets for a moment. “I’m not.”

“Well, what are you then?” Ben replies as they duck behind the last tent. “Because this whole  _ shutting down  _ thing is looking an awful lot like depression to me. You’ve been through a lot, Klaus, there’s no shame in being a little messed up-”

“I’m not talking about being messed up!” Klaus practically shouts. “I know I’m a sick little puppy, for god’s sake, but I’m not sad. I’m fucking angry!” 

Ben opens his mouth and closes it again, at a loss for words. “You-”

“I’m angry.” Klaus sighs and roughly runs a hand over his face. “I did everything I possibly could and I still failed. I wasn’t good enough.” He lowers his voice to a murmur. “A common theme in my life.”

“Roger’s not dead, Klaus.”

“Not yet,” Klaus responds with a scoff. “And if he survives, it’ll be luck or a doctor, not anything I did. Adam is only alive right now because of a random coincidence.”

“A coincidence  _ you  _ caused!” Ben finally argues back. “It’s impossible for you to know everything that’s going to happen. At a certain point, you’ll have changed too much and there’s nothing you can do about that! You saved those other men!”

“Yeah, and for what? So they can die again next week?” Klaus lets out a scoff and sits down on the ground. “So Roger can be in pain for the rest of his life, however long that’ll be?”

Ben opens his mouth to continue the argument, then stops and narrows his eyes at his brother. “What is this really about?”

“W-What?” Klaus looks up, blindsided, most of the anger sliding off his face. Ben just stares down at him expectantly. “You don’t-you-what?”

“Klaus.” Ben crouches down in front of his brother. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Klaus clenches his jaw, glaring up at Ben in frustration. He lets out another explosive sigh. “It’s not fair! Okay? I’m pissed because it’s not fair.”

Ben falls back on his heels. “What’s not fair? Being stuck here or having to save these people?”

“No! Well, yes, but-” Klaus runs a hand over his face. He continues speaking with his eyes covered. “Why does Roger get to live, but not Dave? The first time, I mean.”

“It was two completely separate incidents,” Ben says firmly. “It’s just bad luck.”

“But it was the same  _ injury _ ,” Klaus argues, spreading his arms out wide. “The same fucking medic! And-And last time I didn’t even  _ know  _ Roger. I barely noticed when he died! But I know him now, and I-I feel awful for being angry. Why did it have to be Dave?” There are tears welling up in his eyes and he angrily wipes at them. “And now I’m back here, and it’s a  _ miracle _ and I can save him, but what if I can’t? What if I’m just making everything worse?”

“Klaus-” Ben tries to stop Klaus’s ramblings, but his brother ignores him.

“I mean, maybe it’s me being here that kills him. I don’t know anything about time travel!” He runs his fingers aggressively through his hair, sticking it up in every direction. “And I want to save him, but what right do I have to be in his life other than that, you know?”

Ben’s tone gains a sense of urgency. “Klaus.”

“He’s  _ Dave _ , you know? And he’s so amazing and I love him, but I’m just some useless junkie who can’t even do the  _ one task _ I have to do!”

“You’re not useless!” A voice that is not Ben’s exclaims. 

Klaus spins around to find a pale-looking Dave standing determinedly behind him like some kind of righteous action hero. “Dave, what?”

Dave marches forward until he’s close enough to kneel in front of Klaus and take his hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, baby, but you’re not useless. And you’re not  _ less than  _ me or something like that. Right to be in my life?” Dave looks disbelieving. “You don’t need permission to be in my life.” He holds up a hand to stop Klaus’s protesting. “But if you did, you’d already have it. Why’re you trying to push me away?” 

“I’m not!” Klaus sits up straight, holding Dave’s hands tighter. He sends a quick look back towards the rest of camp and lowers his voice. “I want to be in your life, Dave. I want to be with you. I’m just… realistic about the type of person I am.” 

As the words come out of his mouth, Klaus gets a strong sense of deja vu. Apparently, Dave does too, because he blinks in surprised confusion before continuing. “The type of person you are?”

“I mean I’m not someone who deserves… y’know,” Klaus trails off, face heating up in embarrassment. He’s starting to remember having a nearly-identical conversation with Dave in the original timeline.

“Love?” Dave shakes his head in disbelief. “I think you’re the type of person who deserves everything.”

Klaus laughs wetly and takes a shaky breath in, feeling as if the craziness of the last week has finally left him. He lifts his hands up to kiss Dave’s knuckles. 

Dave turns his hand to cradle Klaus’s cheek. Klaus closes his eyes in contentment, finally able to breathe properly again. 

“Baby?” Dave whispers. Klaus hums an acknowledgement. “Can I ask..?” He pauses for a moment and clears his throat awkwardly. “Can I ask who the glowing, blue man is?” 

Klaus’s eyes fly open. “What?”

~~~~~~~

“Mr. Ruby, could I ask another favor of you?” Luther is once again sitting at the counter in the club, picking at his food. 

Mr. Ruby, counting money at a nearby table, turns to Luther with a questioning look on his face. “This’s the second favor in as many days. What is going on with you?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Luther assures him with a small smile, happy to see that the man cares. “I just found that girl I was looking for.” He puts his fork down to offer the other man his full attention. 

“What, your ex?” Mr. Ruby barks a laugh. “Let me guess, she’s married?”

“Uh.” Luther hesitates, reaching up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sort of?” 

Mr. Ruby laughs even louder, deep in his stomach. “Should’ve guessed when I saw that her name was different.” He shakes his head, still chuckling. “Nothing good comes from digging up the past, Luther, trust me.”

“Well, actually,” Luther says in a rush. “See, I talked to her for a while and it turns out her husband is in prison on some fake charges, and I was hoping you could get him out.”

Mr. Ruby stops counting altogether and puts the cash down. He takes his cigar out of his mouth. “Come again?” He doesn’t wait for Luther to reply. “What I’m hearing is you have the perfect opportunity to swoop in and play the hero, and you’re… choosing not to take it?”

Luther sputters out something, but Mr. Ruby is still talking. 

He squints at Luther. “You must really love this girl, huh?” He scoffs. “Well, that or you’re just a self-sacrificing idiot.”

“I-” 

Mr. Ruby waves him off. “Don’t worry about it, kid, I got it. What’s the guy’s name?”

Luther smiles awkwardly, relieved that he doesn’t have to explain the situation. He slides a piece of paper across the table. 

Mr. Ruby picks up and unfolds it. “Oh, hey, I know this guy’s name. He’s…” He snaps his fingers repeatedly to jog his memory. “Oh, I don’t know, it’ll come to me.”

“So, you can get him out for me?” Luther asks one more time, just to be sure. 

Mr. Ruby waves him off. “Of course! Anything for my favorite employee.”

Luther feels the warm glow of acceptance fill his chest and he has to fight down a grin. Dad never gave him any praise like that. “Thank you, Mr. Ruby. This is going to mean so much to Allison.”

“Eh, alright,” Mr. Ruby says, taking a puff from his cigar. “Get out of my sight, kid. If you’re gonna be such a goodie-two-shoes.”

Luther wolfs down the last few bites of food on his plate and stands up, taking his dishes with him. “There’s no fight tomorrow, right?”

“No, why’d you wanna know?” Mr. Ruby doesn’t look up from the counting he’s returned to. 

“I have… plans,” Luther says vaguely, turning to go. 

“Well, I hope she helps you get over this Allison chick!” Mr. Ruby calls after him, cackling to himself.

Luther lets out a forced laugh. “Yeah, hopefully.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys all just wrote Roger off in the comments last chapter! Guys he was still moving!


End file.
